The Prodigal Daughter
by potternerd95
Summary: Being raised by John Winchester was never easy, but it made Jessa the best she could be. From a young age she was trained as a Hunter, along with her twin brother, Dean. After a particularly bad argument with John, Jessa storms out. Can she live a life away from her father's influence and the Hunting she loved so much? Not the best summary, but I tried.
1. Chapter 1

**OK, so I'm terrible for not finishing my current stories, but I got the idea for this and couldn't leave it alone. Anyway, so i've written six different versions of this story until I finally decided I was happy with this one.**

 **I've got six chapters already written so i'm going to be updating this weekly if it gets a decent response. The first few chapters are a little short, but they will get longer.**

 **I hope you will enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

Jessa tossed her long, curly blonde hair over her shoulder as she took a drag on her cigarette, her pink lipstick leaving a smear of colour on the filter. She had her legs propped up on the arm rest of the park bench she was currently lounging on. The daylight was beginning to wane and there was only a few children left playing at the playground as their mothers watched on with amusement.

She took another drag when her brother walked up next to her. "Those things will kill you." He stated, taking a sip from the bottle in the paper bag he was holding.

"So will that." She took another drag to make her point, this time blowing the smoke in his face. He tapped her legs and she lifted them so he could sit. When he was nestled against the wood of the seat she put them back, not willing to compromise her comfortable position.

He offered her the bottle and she took a gulp. "What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"Sitting." She watched a young boy fall, then run crying into his mother's open arms. She stubbed out her cigarette. "What do you want, Dean?"

He shrugged and took another big sip from the bottle.

"Where's Dad?"

"At the motel."

Jessa pulled a pack of Marlboro Red's and lit up another one. "I don't remember her much." She whispered, watching as the last of the mothers calling her children from the play equipment.

"Who?"

"Mom." She took a long drag from the cigarette and savoured it before blowing it out. "Sometimes I think I remember something, but I can never tell if it's a memory or a story I've made up in my head."

"We were only four when she died, Jess."

"Jessa, not Jess." She swung her legs so both her feet were planted on the ground. "What do you remember about her?"

"Not a whole lot." He pressed the bottle to his lips, drinking in the amber liquid inside. "She used to bake us pie. I remember one time, we were playing in the yard and I dared you to climb the biggest tree."

"Our birthday."

He nodded, "We just turned four. You got to the second branch but then you got scared."

"I don't get scared."

He got a chuckle out of that, "But you were. So I climbed up with you. I held your hand and tried to make you climb down."

"We fell." It wasn't a question, she remembered falling. She remembered the feeling of falling, like it as in slow motion. She remembered hitting the ground with a thump.

"We did." He smiled and offered her the bottle again. She took it, taking a sip with her cigarette clamped between two fingers. "And man, did you cry. But Mom came running out and she scooped us both up and carried us inside. She set us down on the counter and cleaned the blood off us."

"Cherry pie." A crease formed in her forehead as she tried to make sense of the strange memory.

But Dean just nodded like he understood, "She had just pulled it from the oven. She said 'I was saving this for after dinner, but I think we can start it early'. It was still warm."

When Dean finished the story, night had well and truly fallen. Both siblings had been so lost in their shared memory that neither had noticed. There was a rustle in the bushes behind them and Jessa could just make out a shadowy figure in the light of the full moon.

"Ready?" Dean asked, tensing.

Jessa nodded and pulled her own gun from inside her leather jacket.

"Go." She whispered.

Both Dean and Jessa stood and moved around different sides of the bench, aiming their guns at the figure that emerged. The figure stepped into the glow of a nearby streetlight and growled before lunging at them. Jessa reacted first, firing three silver bullets in rapid succession, each meeting their mark in the werewolf's chest sending it crumpling to the ground.

"Man, you're slow." She chuckled, slipping the gun back into her jacket.

"I would have had it." Dean defended.

"Before or after he bit you?" Jessa walked back to the bench and picked up the bottle of whiskey that Dean left there.

"Before." He snatched the bottle from her hands before she could take a sip, and downed more than was wise.

Jessa rolled her eyes at her twin brother and lit up another cigarette. "Come on, we should get back to the motel."

They began making the walk back to the rundown motel on the edge of town. As they approached the motel Jessa slipped a mint into her mouth and Dean screwed the cap on the whisky, hiding it in the garden just outside their room.

"You two took your time." John said when the door closed behind them.

"We got it done, what should time matter?" Jessa told him with a little snark.

"Watch your attitude." He cautioned.

She rolled her eyes and walked back to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"For a shower." She told her father, "Do I need to ask your permission?"

"Mind your attitude, Jessamine."

She whirled to face him, "Do not call me Jessamine." She seethed.

"I will call you whatever I damn well please, you are my daughter!"

"Whatever." She walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Dean was quick to follow her out, "J, are you alright?"

She laughed humourlessly, "Just shiny."

"Jessa, come on. Talk to me."

She dug up the half empty bottle of whiskey from the garden and walked into the next door room, the one she shared with Dean. She pushed the window open before throwing herself on one of the beds and lighting a cigarette. She took a swig of the alcohol and sighed.

"What the hell is going on with you?" Dean asked, sitting on his own bed and grabbing the bottle from her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you've been picking fights with dad more, taking stupid risks on hunts, your drinking is bordering on alcoholism and I'm not even going to mention the smoking."

She sat up so her green eyes bore into his, "You want to know what's up? I'll tell you. I'm seventeen years old and he's still breathing down my neck like I'm ten and he's taking me on my first hunt."

"So, what? You're going to drink yourself to death to punish him?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do." She stood up and snatched the bottle back from Dean, "But I'm not going to hang around if he doesn't trust me to do this job." She locked herself in the bathroom before Dean could get another word in.

Their next hunt was a Vetala in Cleveland. They spent a few days researching in their motel room and the local library when was necessary. Jessa and Sam worked on studying the lore while John and Dean studied the murders they thought were associated with the Vetala. When they finally located it, John made fourteen-year-old Sam stay back at the motel while the others hunted the creatures.

"According to the lore, the hunt in pairs." Jessa told them as the creeped up on the abandoned warehouse where they believed the Vetala to be hiding.

"Got it, nerd." Dean said, giving her a light hearted shove.

"Behave." John growled. The only weakness Jessa and Sam could find on these creatures was silver, so each Winchester wielded a silver knife. "Ready?"

Dean and Jessa nodded and the family creeped into the giant concrete building. Their footsteps echoed in the open space as they approached the middle of the room.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A woman appeared a few feet away from. She was rather pretty, with sharp cheekbones and dark hair that was cut into a bob.

"Hunters?" Another woman appeared on their other side, she looked similar to the first one with the same dark eyes and bone structure.

Both of the women laughed, flashing razor sharp, pointed teeth. On instinct, the three Winchester's tensed and positioned themselves in a fighting stance.

"What do they think they're going to do?" The first one asked with amusement.

"By the looks of their small blades, it appears that they have come to kill us, Sis."

The first woman lunged at John, but he sidestepped her and slashed his knife at her, catching her arm. The silver sizzled her flesh and she hissed in pain before rounding on him again. Jessa reacted before John, and launched herself at the creature and knocking it to the ground. She spared a look at her twin, and Dean was busy with the other one. The Vetala took advantage of Jessa's momentary distraction and pinned her to the ground.

"I just bet you are going to taste delicious." She smiled, baring her teeth as John flew at her, knocking her off his daughter.

While John had her side tracked, Jessa drove her silver blade into the creature's heart and twisted her knife. It cried out in pain as its complexion changed and she crumpled to the ground. As the first creature died, the other one cried out in grief and clamped her teeth down on Dean's shoulder. He fell to the ground, unconscious, and Jessa was suddenly advancing on her. She lunged at the creature and pinned her against the wall. The Vetala was strong, and it didn't take much for it to overpower her and slam her into the ground.

John was next to her, sending a powerful kick into the things side. The kick didn't faze the powerful creature and she went to bite Jessa. Jessa waited until the razor sharp teeth were millimetres from her throat and thrust her knife upwards and into its heart. She had the knife embedded in the Vetala to the hilt when she twisted it, ending the creature's life.

"What the hell was that?" John demanded after he had helped her to her feet.

"What the hell was what?"

"That!" He pointed to the dead Vetala. "You were reckless."

"I killed it!"

"And it almost killed you first."

"Relax, Dad. This isn't my first hunt." She wiped her knife clean on her jeans.

"Jessa!" He yelled to get her full attention, "You could have had her dead long before you killed her."

"So what? She's dead now." She walked over to where Dean was lying unconscious on the hard cement floor. "Speaking of dead, how long until he wakes up?"

"Couple hours maybe." John bent down and checked his vital signs. "Help me get him to the car, would you."

Jessa was significantly smaller than her twin brother so she had a hard time helping John drag him to the car, but eventually they had him laying across the backseat.

"How are we going to dispose of Thing 1 and Thing 2 back there?" Jessa asked when they had locked Dean inside the car.

"Dr Seuss? Really?"

"I blanked."

"Thelma and Louise." He offered.

"Damn! It was right there." She sighed, frustrated that she hadn't thought of it. "Anyway, so how are we going to get rid of them?"

John opened up the trunk and pulled out two shovels. "Bury them in the woods out back."

Jessa moaned, "Really? I hate the digging."

"It's in the job description."

It took the better part of two hours for the pair to properly bury the bodies and the sun was poking through the trees when they got back to the Impala.

"I'm knackered." Jessa declared, laying back in the shotgun seat and putting her feet up on the dash.

"You can sleep at the motel, get your feet off the dash."

She rolled her eyes, but did what he asked. "No I can't. We'll get back and then you'll declare that it's time to hit the road again."

John was silent, knowing that his daughter was right.

"Why have you been so reckless lately?"

"I haven't been any more reckless than usual." She told him as Dean moaned in the back. "You up, Sleeping Beauty?" She chuckled.

"Where're we?" Dean asked groggily, sitting up.

"Almost back at the motel." John told him, "Your reaction times are slow."

"No they're not."

"She bit you."

"So?"

"You shouldn't give her the opportunity."

Dean rolled his eyes and the Impala pulled into the motel parking lot. "Get your gear." John told them, "We're leaving in ten minutes."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! I'm so excited about this story and I really hope you enjoy it :) Xoxo**

* * *

" _What the hell is wrong with you?" John grabbed her by the back of her shirt and in their close proximity she could smell the alcohol on his breath_

" _Wrong with me?" Jessa scoffed, "I'm just doing what you taught me to do."_

" _I taught you to Hunt!" He roared, "Not be stupid and almost get yourself and your brother killed."_

 _Jessa pulled herself free of his grip and proceeded to wrap a bandage around the wound on her upper arm, "I had it under control!"_

" _You did not! You are just a child, Jessa!"_

" _I'm almost eighteen." She sneered._

" _Next time you will follow orders. Do you understand?"_

 _Jessa glared at him but didn't answer._

" _I said do you understand."_

" _We aren't your soldiers, John."_

 _Jessa felt the hot sting on her face from where he slapped her. "You will show me some respect!"_

 _Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at him defiantly. He had never hit her before and she couldn't believe he just had. She tasted copper in her mouth as she spat, "Earn it, John."_

 _As she stalked from the room she heard him crack open another beer. She slammed the door to her own room when she entered, causing Sam and Dean to jump in surprise._

" _J, what happened?" Dean asked her._

" _Doesn't matter." She grabbed her duffel from under her bed and began stuffing it with the clothes that lay in various spots around the room._

" _J?"_

" _I said it doesn't matter!" She yelled as she grabbed her knife and gun from under her pillow._

" _Where are you going?" Sam asked his big sister._

" _Away."_

" _You're going to run away? That it?" Dean asked accusingly._

" _Do not give me that, Dean." She grabbed her smokes and the bottle of whiskey from the bathroom, as well as her toilet bag._

" _Jessie, please don't go." She turned to face her younger brother. His face was sad and he was giving her his trademark puppy dog eyes._

 _She had never been able to resist that look so she turned away, "Stay out of Dad's room tonight. He's been drinking." With that she left the room and didn't look back._

Jessa recalled the night she ran away, almost a month ago. She missed her family terribly, but she didn't regret leaving. No, she liked being on her own. She picked her own hunts, made her own rules and better still, Dean wasn't giving her lectures on her smoking or drinking.

* * *

She flicked the butt of the cigarette she just finished and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She just completed a job and was walking down a desolate stretch of road in central Nebraska. She figured she wouldn't make it to the next town and she prayed that a car would come along and pick her up. It was growing darker and she didn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere at night.

As the sun set behind her and she came across a rundown building. Despite its ramshackle appearance, a neon sign reading Harvelle's Roadhouse lit up and there were a few cars parked in the lot. She could hear the soft hum of music from within.

When she entered, the soft hum of music she heard from outside turned into the steady beat of Billy Joel's _Keeping the Faith._ Straight away she realised almost instantly that the place was a hunter's haunt. There were only a few patrons, and they were bent over tables drinking and cleaning assorted weapons.

There was a woman wiping down the bar and Jessa made her way over.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked her.

"Just a whiskey thanks."

The woman laughed, "Uh-huh, sure." Her tone was mocking, "You got ID?"

Jessa reached into her duffel and pulled out her fake ID.

She looked between the ID and Jessa before speaking again, "What are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

Jessa knew the woman didn't believe what was written on the card in her hand. "Seventeen." She admitted.

"Where are your parents?"

Jessa scoffed, "God only knows."

The woman pulled out a glass and filled it with cola. "What are you doing out here alone?"

"Working."

She looked at Jessa sceptically, "And what line of work are you in?"

Jessa glanced around the room, "Same as every person in this bar, I presume."

"What's your name, Kid?"

"I'm not a kid." She frowned, "Jessa Winchester."

"Winchester? You John's kid?" It sounded more like an accusation than an observation.

Jessa nodded. "Who are you?"

"Ellen Harvelle." She smiled at Jessa before asking, "You on your own?"

Again, Jessa nodded.

"Where are you headed?"

"Wherever there's a job."

"Got a job?"

"Not yet."

"What about a place to stay?"

She shook her head.

"I got rooms out the back, I can put you up for the night."

Jessa smiled, "How much?"

"Forty."

Jessa fished around in her bag and pulled out the last of her money, counting forty and handing it to her before returning the remaining three dollars to the bag.

Ellen stared at the bills on the counter before pushing them back, "Tell you what, first night's free."

Jessa offered her a grateful smile as she stuffed the money back into her duffel.

"Come on, I'll show you."

The room was bare, it contained only a bed, nightstand and closet. There was a small adjoining bathroom that resembled a closet with a tub.

"It's not much, but it's what I've got."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Kid."

When Ellen left the room, Jessa climbed straight into the shower and let the hot water soak her aching muscles. The spirit she had just dealt with wasn't a difficult one, but it had beaten her around a bit before she finished it and then she had walked all day. The water turned cold after a couple of minutes so she climbed out and dried off. She twisted her wet hair into a knot on top of her head before climbing into the single bed. The bad was far from comfortable, as were the beds in many of the motels she stayed at, but she fell asleep almost instantly.

When she woke up she was momentarily disoriented, a feeling that surprised her because all her life she had been sleeping in unfamiliar places. When she got her bearings she dressed and packed up her bag before venturing back out into the bar area.

"Morning." Ellen greeted her as she mopped the floor, "How'd you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you."

Ellen glanced at the bag on her shoulder, "Are you heading off?"

Jessa nodded, "I have to make it to the next town by dark."

"You're welcome to stay another night, you know."

She smiled gratefully, "Thank you, but I should hit the road."

Ellen's heart broke for the girl. She reminded her so much of her own daughter and she was all on her own, "Jessa, if you leave now you'll only just make it before dark. You don't have money or a job. What are you going to do?"

"I'll work something out."

"Tell you what, if you help me out with the cleaning and the customers you can stay until you get a hunt."

Jessa considered it for a moment, "I don't want to get in the way."

"Trust me, honey. You'd be doing me a favour. I could use some help around here."

"Ok."

"Good. Now, go put your bag back then grab a cloth and start scrubbing down the tables."

Jessa obliged, and she and Ellen spent the next couple of hours scrubbing down every table, wall and glass in the bar.

An hour into the cleaning a young blonde girl entered the room and Ellen introduced her as her daughter, Jo. Jo took up a position on the bar and watch the other women clean.

Late in the afternoon a few patrons entered and Jessa spent the night waiting on the tables and clearing the mess that the Hunters would leave.

* * *

Each day passed similarly and Jessa found herself not wanting to pick up on a hunt. If she heard of one nearby, she would pass it on to the next hunter in. She would clean during the day and wait tables during the night and Ellen would pay her. The weeks stretched into months and when January 24th rolled around Ellen and Jo made a fuss and bought her a brand new switchblade.

Each night she would catch snippets of what other Hunters were discussing, and she would help them when she could. The immersion in Hunter culture piqued her curiosity and she found herself enrolling in college using the computer that Ellen kept out back. It wasn't as if she wanted to study, she just yearned to learn everything she could. She continued to work and every spare moment she had was spent studying, and before long she had a PhD in Folklore and Religion.

Early one spring evening, while Jessa was operating behind the bar, two suits entered. The atmosphere changed immediately, and the few Hunters that were cleaning various weapons tensed and grew silent.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" She asked as they approached the bar. Her priority was getting them out of the roadhouse.

"We were wondering if you, or any of your patrons have seen someone." One of them spoke. He wore a neatly pressed suit and a stern expression. His dark eyes bore into her with the kind of intensity that would have made a regular person nervous. But not Jessa. She had been hunting monsters her entire life, she could handle this guy.

"We ain't seen no one." Out of the corner of her eye she saw a couple of customers drop bills on the table and slip out the door.

"Are you sure?" The other one pulled an FBI badge from his back pocket. Jessa snatched it from him to inspect it. As a hunter she had seen her fair share of fake badges, but this one was legit.

"He may have stopped in her in the last few days." The first agent began, "He's in his mid-thirties and would have appeared non-threatening. He holds a blue collar job and would have only passed through."

"I don't know if you noticed," Jessa said bitterly, "But that describes most of the people we get in here."

"This guy is different." The second one, Morgan was what was written on his ID, said. "He would have tried to strike up a conversation with you but shy away from anyone else in the establishment. He would have seemed off, maybe your instincts told you to run."

Jessa laughed at him, "Again, you're describing almost every customer in this place. We don't get tourists, just blue collar folk passing through."

"He may have had a scar on his arm, just above his wrist." Morgan said, his dark eyes were pleading with her to cooperate.

"Look, maybe I saw someone like that a few days ago."

"Got a name?"

"Said his name was… Uh, Drew I think he said. He was a trucker. Passed through and I haven't seen him since."

The first agent placed a business card on the bar, "If you remember anything, or see him again, call."

"Hey, what did this guy do? To get the Feds on his tail?"

"He raped and murdered four women."

Jessa slipped the card into her back pocket and watched them leave.

The rest of the night passed pretty uneventful, until just on closing when she broke up a fight between two drunk Hunters. It took her longer than usual to usher out the last of the drinkers so it was almost midnight when she went to lock the doors. Ellen was away for unknown reasons and Jo had locked herself in her room which wasn't unusual for the eighteen-year-old.

Jessa peeked out the window when she was shutting off the lights and noticed an old lorry parked on the shoulder. Alarm bells went off in her head and her instincts told her she was in danger. She double checked the lock on the door and slid the deadbolt in place before rushing behind the bar to the phone.

"Hotchner." He answered straight away, despite the late hour.

"Agent Hotchner, my name is Jessa we spoke earlier at Harvelle's Roadhouse."

"Have you remembered something about the case?"

"He's here. Well, I think he's here. It looks like the same truck parked out front."

"Where are you now?"

"The Roadhouse. In the bar."

"Is there anyone else with you?"

"No, I closed up. But the door is locked."

"Ok, Jessa I need you to remain calm. We're on our way."

Her initial panic had subsided until she realised that Jo was in her room. "Shit, Jo." She dropped the phone and took off running out the back to Jo's room, cursing that she hadn't grabbed the shotgun that Ellen kept behind the bar. She pounded on the door, but there was no answer. "Jo?" Instinct taking over, she kicked the door with all of her force, busting the lock and sending the door swinging open.


	3. Chapter 3

**Another short one, but they're going to start getting longer.**

 **I tried to post this a couple days ago but work got crazy and then my internet died. But here it is, still early. Sorry for leaving you hanging.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

She saw Jo tied to the bed with the man from the other day on top of her. His head snapped up when Jessa burst through the door. When he climbed off her, Jessa could see a few shallow cuts across her chest and shoulders but otherwise she appeared unharmed.

The man ran at Jessa and she easily dodged him. He was wielding a large hunting knife and when he ran at her again, Jessa grabbed his arm and forced him to drop his weapon. She wasn't expecting the punch that caught her face, but managed to retaliate with her knee to his groin. He dropped to the floor in pain and someone came running through the door just as her knee connected with his face, knocking him unconscious. She turned to see the agent from earlier, Morgan, standing in the doorway with his gun trained on the now-unconscious assailant.

Blood was trickling from Jessa's mouth as she grabbed her switchblade from her boot and cut Jo free from the ropes that bound her to the bed. As soon as she was free, Jo wrapped her arms around her.

Jessa could feel the bruise blooming on her cheek as she led Jo downstairs. Agent Morgan handcuffed their attacker and another agent had gone up to help him get his unconscious body to the waiting SUV's. The FBI had an ambulance waiting, which an agent ushered Jo to. While a paramedic was tending to Jo's minor wounds, agent Hotchner approached Jessa for a statement.

"I got to Jo's room and the door was locked so I kicked it in." She recounted, "He attacked me and I beat him up. The son of a bitch deserved more than I gave him."

A small smile briefly graced his lips before it was replaced by his stern expression, "Thank you for your help."

"Is this what you do all the time? Catch killers?"

"Serial killers, yes."

She smiled, maybe there was a point in having a life outside of hunting. She walked away from the agent to see how Jo was doing.

"I'm fine." She assured Jessa, "Just a couple of minor cuts. I gotta get used to it if I want to be a hunter, right." The paramedic had cleaned her wounds and taped bandages to her to stop the bleeding.

Jessa shook her head. All Jo ever wanted to be was a Hunter and that was the last thing Ellen wanted for her. "I'm just glad you're ok."

"Yeah but Mom's going to flip when she gets home tomorrow."

Jessa chuckled, "Come on, you should get some sleep."

* * *

"What the hell happened to you?" Ellen asked Jessa as soon as she walked through the door.

Jessa chucked the dirty rag into the bucket of water and stood up properly to face her. "Someone broke in last night."

"I hope he looks a hell of a lot worse than you do." She tilted her surrogate daughter's head to inspect the bruise.

"He does." She tried to find the best way to explain it, "Well, he didn't break into the bar, see."

"Jessa, what happened?"

"He attacked Jo."

Ellen saw red.

"Before you overreact, she's fine. I called the feds and they arrested him."

"Feds?"

"Uh, yeah. They came in and were asking me about him and when I closed up he was here so I called them."

"Mom." Jo appeared in the doorway wearing a black tank top, her injuries fully visible.

"Jo, honey, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Mom. Jessa saved me."

Ellen embraced her daughter, then Jessa. "I'm glad you're both ok."

Jessa finished her morning cleaning and was just taking the trash bag to the dumpster when she heard the gravel crunching behind her. In one swift movement she grabbed her hunting knife from her waistband and had the person pinned against the dumpster with the blade at his throat.

"Woah!" The agent from yesterday, Agent Morgan, held up his hands.

She released him.

"What was that for?"

She shrugged and tossed the garbage into the dumpster.

"What are you running from?"

"What makes you think I'm running?"

"For starters, you're what like twenty-one? Twenty-two? And you fight better than any civilian I've ever seen and you just put a knife to my throat for walking up behind you."

"What if I'm not running? What if I'm just being ready?"

"Ready for what?"

Jessa shrugged again. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to check on you and your sister." He told her, "I mean, I assume she's your sister. You kind of look similar."

She smiled. It wasn't the first time someone mistook her and Jo for sisters, but she didn't mind because she considered Jo and Ellen her family. "We're ok. It's not the first fight I've ever been in."

He chuckled, "I can tell."

Jessa started walking back to the Roadhouse, and Morgan followed. "So what? Now you're going to stalk me?"

He shrugged, "What's a girl like you doing out here anyway?"

"Girl like me? You don't even know me." She leaned against the side of the building and lit a cigarette.

He shrugged again, "I know more than you think, Bright Eyes. I know that you're tough. And that you care. I also know that you don't want to settle here. Someone like you would do good in a job like this."

She shook her head and scoffed, "Bright Eyes?"

He shrugged with an overconfident grin.

"What makes you think I don't want to stay, anyway?"

"Your room. Well, I assume it was your room. It's bare. No personal items at all."

"You were in my room?"

"We had to clear the building last night."

"Well, you don't know me."

"Then let me." He handed her a card, "If you ever find yourself in my neck of the woods, call me." He slipped a pair of dark shades over his eyes and walked off.

Jessa finished off her cigarette and went back inside to prepare for the night's trade.

* * *

The Roadhouse was closed and Jessa perched on the bar as she counted the tips while Ellen counted the money in the till.

"What's on your mind?" Ellen asked after a long silence.

"I've been thinking of moving on." She told her.

A brief look of surprise crossed Ellen's face before it was replaced with one of support, "You thinking of Hunting again?"

Jessa shrugged, "I don't know, but I think I should move on."

Ellen offered her a smile, "I'm happy for you, sweetheart."

"I won't be leaving you short a waitress or anything?"

Ellen shook her head, "Jo's been helping out a bit and she's old enough to operate the bar. When were you thinking of going?"

"I don't know, soon I guess."

"We'll be sad to see you go."

"This is still my home. It's always going to be my home." She slipped off the bar and wrapped Ellen in a hug.

"I love you, honey."

"Love you too, Ellen."

"Good luck when you tell Jo. She's going to miss having you around."

The next morning Jessa decided that it was the best time to tell Jo that she was leaving. She brought it up over breakfast, and Jo didn't react well.

"What do you mean, you're leaving?" She yelled.

"I just think that it's time for me to move on."

"Why?"

She shrugged, "It's what I want, Jo."

Jessa's voice remained calm when Jo yelled, and when she spoke again it was level, "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you."

"When are you leaving?"

Jessa shrugged, "In the next few days."

She left the following Monday. It didn't take much for her to pack up her life, it still fit inside the duffel bag that she used when she arrived. She got the bus from the town after Ellen and Jo dropped her off. It was a teary goodbye on Ellen's part, but when the bus couldn't wait any longer she let go and Jessa boarded the bus to take her away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Another chapter. I better get my act together because I only have seven chapters written and at this rate i'm going to catch up and then updated will never come. Eek.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

Jessa was in DC a week before she decided to call Derek. At first she debated whether she should, but he had told her to call if she was in his 'neck of the woods' when he gave her his card. They had arranged to meet for lunch in Virginia, so she packed her bag and checked out of the dirty motel she had been staying at. It took her a little over an hour on the bus and she got off half an hour before they were due to meet, which gave her just enough time to check into a motel and walk to the café that Derek had suggested. When she arrived she was a couple of minutes late.

"So sorry I'm late." She apologised, taking a seat opposite him at the table.

"It's fine." Derek assured her. "I gotta say, I was surprised that you called."

She shrugged, "You told me to call if I was ever around. Plus, I'm going to need a guide." She would be lying if she said she wasn't flirting just a little bit.

The waitress approached and took their orders before disappearing again.

"So," Derek began, "What are you actually doing here?"

Jessa shrugged again, "I felt like it was time to leave."

"So what? Are you here permanently?"

"I don't know yet. Depends if I can find a job."

"What have you been looking at?"

"Just waitressing jobs. It's all I have experience in."

"I stand by what I said the other week, you'd be good in a job like this."

"What? And be a fed?" She scoffed, "Like they'd let me in."

"You won't know until you try." Jessa shrugged so Derek changed the subject, "Tell me Jessa, what does someone do for fun in Middle Of Nowhere, Nebraska?"

"Fun?" She chuckled, "Work mostly."

"Work? Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, like you said there isn't a whole lot around so I work. I used to use my free time for college but when I finished my degree there wasn't a whole lot else."

"What did you study?"

"Folklore and Religion."

"Really? How did you get into that?"

Short of telling him the truth, she couldn't think of a plausible lie so she shrugged, "It just always interested me I guess."

"That's cool."

There was a moment of awkward silence before Jessa asked, "So where are you from?"

"Chicago. What about you? Did you grow up in Nebraska?"

"No. I moved in to the Roadhouse when I was seventeen. I was born in Kansas, but raised on the road."

"On the road?"

"Yeah, my dad was a salesman so we travelled a lot. Never stayed in the same spot more than a few weeks."

"What about your mom?"

"She died when I was four."

"I'm sorry."

She smiled politely, not sure what to say about it. "After that Dad took a travelling job and packed us all up and off we went."

"Do you have siblings? I mean, I know you have a sister but do you have any more?"

Jessa shook her head, "Jo isn't my sister. At least not by blood. Her mom took me in when I was seventeen, after I ran away." She told him, "I have two brothers, though I haven't spoken to them in seven years."

"Older or younger?" He asked, not wanting to pry about her running away.

"Dean is my twin, and Sam is four years younger. What about you? Any siblings?"

"Two sisters. One older, one younger."

The waitress returned with their food. Jessa took her burger and offered her a thankful smile before she disappeared again.

The rest of their lunch passed in the same way, they took turns asking questions about one another and would answer when they felt comfortable.

After a little while, Derek checked his watch and declared that he had to leave.

"Thank you for lunch." Jessa said, "I'm glad I have a friend here."

He smiled, "Do you need a lift to wherever you're staying?"

"Nah, I'm at a motel down the street. I'll walk."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. I should get back to work." She watched him walk away and climb into a little black sedan and drive off.

When he was out of sight she turned and walked back to her motel.

* * *

Jessa was lounging on her bed with a cigarette between two fingers and a bottle of whiskey in her hand. She took a gulp from the bottle followed by a long drag on her cigarette before slowly letting the smoke out of her lungs. What was she thinking, moving across the country like that? She had no skills, no plans, she had moved on a whim and now she was beginning to regret it. She barely had any money left and would need a job soon.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely heard the knock at the door. Sighing, she swung her legs off the bed and grabbed her gun from the nightstand. Years of hunting left her with some habits she was happy not to break. When she reached the door she noticed, for the first time, that it didn't have a peep hole. She cocked the gun ready to fire if needed before opening the door.

"Derek?" She couldn't hide the surprise in her voice when she saw the agent standing there. He had obviously just come from work because he still had his gun strapped to his waist. "What are you doing here?" She slipped the gun into the waistband of her jeans.

"Thought I'd keep you company." He shrugged, then glanced at the bottle in her hand, "Big night?"

She shrugged and opened the door further for him to enter through. "Average night. Want a drink?"

"Ah sure."

Sticking the cigarette between her pink painted lips, she went into the small kitchenette and began opening cupboards until she found one with a couple of dirty cracked glasses. She grabbed two and washed them in the sink before pouring two generous amounts of whiskey in the glasses. While he wasn't looking she hid her gun in one of the empty cupboards.

"How'd you know where I was staying, anyway?" She asked, setting his glass on the table in front of him before sitting on the other chair.

"This was the only motel within walking distance of the café." He glanced around the room, "This is hardly a nice place."

She shrugged and stubbed her cigarette out in the ash tray, "I was raised in places like this."

"Really?"

"Dad moved around a lot and his job didn't pay a whole lot." She said simply.

"That's hardly a life for a kid."

Jessa shrugged, "I didn't mind. I liked the freedom, plus I didn't need to make friends at school because we were only going to leave again."

"Then why did you run away?" He asked looking down at his half empty glass, "I mean, if you want to answer. You don't have to."

She shrugged, "After a little while, the freedom wasn't freedom. We weren't allowed to go anywhere or do anything. We had to stay in the motel and wait for him to return so we could pack up and head to the next crappy motel."

"Have you spoken to them since?"

She shook her head and got up to retrieve the bottle and her smokes, "No." She didn't tell him that occasionally she would track them. She never found anything, of course. Except once, Sam was at Stanford and she was so proud of her little brother, even if she couldn't see him. "Want some?" She asked, topping off her glass.

Derek slid his glass over to her and she filled it before passing it back.

They chatted for a while longer, and before either of them realised they had a mostly empty bottle of whiskey and were sitting far closer than they had been previously.

When the bottle was empty Jessa threw herself down on her bed, reaching for a cigarette. Before she could reach her lighter, it disappeared from the nightstand.

"Hey." She groaned, plucking the cigarette from her mouth.

"You shouldn't smoke." Derek chuckled, holding her lighter just out of reach.

"Derek, come on. Give me my lighter." She reached for it but he moved further away. She missed this righted but grabbed on to his wrist. In his drunken state he fell forward onto the bed, his face mere centimetres from hers. She slid her hand from his wrist to his hand where he still clutched her lighter.

Her hand paused there longer than she should have, and after a moment Derek threaded his fingers through hers. She could feel his breath against her face as his dark eyes bore into her green ones and he lowered his face to hers, kissing her deeply.

It wasn't long before the kiss became more heated and Jessa fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt and slipped it from his shoulders. Without breaking the kiss Derek pulled his gun from his hip and set it down on the nightstand.

It didn't take much longer for them to shed the rest of their clothes as they both let their walls fall away.

* * *

When Derek woke, Jessa was sitting on the window sill smoking.

"Morning." She greeted with a smirk. "I got breakfast and coffee." She pointed to the bag and paper coffee cup.

"Thanks." He climbed from the bed and pulled his trousers on before grabbing the coffee and drinking eagerly. "What time is it?"

"A little before eight." She told him, stubbing out her cigarette and climbing down from the windowsill.

"I have to get to work." He sat on the end of the bed and bit into the breakfast roll Jessa had got him.

"Can't you skip?" She asked with a mischievous glint in her eye.

He smirked back, "I can't."

She smiled and lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him, "Are you sure?"

He chuckled, but didn't answer because Jessa pressed her lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss.

"Jessa, I have to go." He whispered between kisses. "I have to get home before work."

"Or…" She smiled cheekily and pulled her shirt off, "You could go straight to work from here."

He grinned against her lips and trailed his hands down her back, deftly unclasping her bra. Jessa grinned and broke their kiss to pull her bra off completely. She kissed him again, running her hands over his head and down his bare chest loving the feel of his tight muscles under her touch.

Derek deepened the kiss and it became more urgent and flipped her on to her back, trailing kisses along her jaw and neck. Jessa gradually guided his mouth back to hers before she undid the button on his trousers. Derek trailed his fingers down Jessa's bare sides feeling her lightly shiver beneath his soft touch.

He chuckled as she let out an involuntary moan of pleasure, before they were interrupted by the ringing of Derek's phone.

"Ignore it." She told him, occupying his mouth in a heated kiss.

"I can't." He climbed off her and snatched his phone from the table. "Morgan." He answered, "Yeah, give me thirty minutes." He sent Jessa an apologetic look as he said it.

"You have to go?" She asked when he hung up.

"Yeah. Got a case."

"Need to use the shower?"

He nodded, "If I can find my shirt."

Jessa laughed, "Over there." She pointed to the end of the bed, where it lay almost under it.

"Thanks." He grabbed it from the floor then locked himself in the motel's tiny bathroom.

He emerged minutes later, fully dressed. Jessa still sat in the same position on the bed, only now she too was dressed.

Derek grabbed his phone from the table then started patting his pockets, "Gun?"

Jessa pointed to the nightstand.

"Right." He attached the gun and holster to his hip. "I have to go." He gave her one last kiss before disappearing out the door.

* * *

Derek was gone for eight days. During that time Jessa couldn't help but think about what he had said at the café, that she would be good at a job like his. The more she thought about it, the more plausible it sounded. Was it really so different from Hunting?

It was on the sixth day that she finally decided to go for it, and apply. She was thankful for the laptop computer that Ellen and Jo had given her for a going away present, and that night she applied for the FBI academy.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next few months Jessa and Derek kept up their casual relationship, even throughout Jessa's time at the Academy. It wasn't until she was given her first posting that they ended their fling. Jessa went through the Academy with perfect scores on everything, and her instructors were beyond pleased with her. She was in top physical form, her combat skills were exemplary and her instructors told her that they had never seen a training agent with better aim. When she graduated, the FBI gave her her first choice for a posting, and she was sent to the Omaha field office.

She enjoyed her time in Omaha, using every day off to make the four hour trip to the roadhouse. After almost a year she heard about an opening in the Behavioural Analysis Unit in Quantico. She spoke to her superiors who encouraged her to apply for the position, but made sure she knew that it was a coveted position and she would be up against career agents.

"Winchester!" She was sitting at her desk when her partner, Agent Rowlins, called her name. "Franks wants to see you in his office."

Simon Franks was her boss, and if he wanted to see her it couldn't be good. She made her way to the large corner office and knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in." Came the gruff voice of Agent Franks.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Winchester, take a seat." He motioned to one of the empty chairs on the other side of his desk. Her heart was racing as scenarios ran through her head. Was she being reprimanded? Was he going to tell her that she no longer had a job? "I got an email from the higher ups in Quantico."

"What about, sir?"

Franks pulled out a signed document. "Transfer orders for a Special Agent Jessamine Winchester. Congratulations, Winchester, you got the job in Quantico."

Jessa's heart stopped. Did he just say she got the job? "I'm sorry, sir?"

"You got the job."

"I did?"

"You don't sound excited about it, Winchester."

A smile spread across her face, "I am, sir, I really am. Just in shock. I thought you said I'd be up against career agents. I didn't think I stood a chance."

"It seems that they were impressed by your spotless record and your PhD seemed to help." He smiled at her, "Anyway, they want you to start on Monday."

"Monday?"

"I'm going to give you the rest of today, and Friday off. You had the weekend off anyway."

"Thank you, sir. That's very generous of you."

"I'll have Rowlins finish your paperwork. Good luck, Winchester." He stood and shook her hand before she left his office.

"What was that about, Winchester?" Rowlins asked eagerly from his desk.

"Franks was just telling me to dump all my paperwork on you."

"Bull!"

Jessa went to her desk and gathered up all of her unfinished paperwork and dumped them on Rowlins' desk.

"No way Franks told you to dump this on me."

"Rowlins." Franks bellowed from the door of his office, "I need you to finish Winchester's paperwork."

Rowlins didn't get time to answer before Franks disappeared back into his office. "So why do you get off paperwork?" He asked Jessa.

She sat on her chair and started gathering her personal items and stuffed them into her handbag, "I got the job in Quantico."

"No way!" He exclaimed, "Jessa that's great."

"So I start on Monday and Franks is giving me time off to get my stuff packed up and whatnot."

"In that case, I don't mind doing your paperwork."

"Like you have a choice." She smiled, "Anyway, I'm getting the hell out of here."

Rowlins stood and hugged her, "You know, I might actually miss you."

She laughed at her only friend, "I might actually miss you, too Steve."

"Keep in touch."

Jessa walked into the parking lot and climbed on to her SuperHawk before speeding away from the building.

* * *

She parked her bike in the park labelled 214. She ran up the stairs to the second floor and unlocked her apartment door. Her one-bedroom didn't take long to pack in boxes. A lifetime habit of packing at a moment's notice was hard to break so her life fit neatly into a handful of boxes. She packed some clothes, along with her badge and gun, into her old duffel and slung it over her shoulder. She dialled a freighting company and arranged a pickup for early the next morning.

Taking one last look around her apartment she locked the door and walked out. She took her keys to the concierge in the lobby.

"How are you today, Howard?" She greeted the older man.

"Why aren't you at work?" The sixty-something asked her.

"I got a promotion."

"That's wonderful!"

"Which means I have to relocate."

"You're leaving?"

"I am. I start on Monday."

"I'll be sorry to see you go, Jessa."

"I've got my keys for you, and I have a freight company coming in the morning to pick up my things and I was wondering if you could let them into my apartment."

"Anything for you, my dear."

"Thanks Howard."

"You take care."

It didn't take long for Jessa to be back on her bike and on the road.

* * *

The sun had just set when she parked her SuperHawk out the front of the Roadhouse and walked in to the familiar building. There were the usual few hunters milling about, one or two she recognised and would smile at her but the few unfamiliar faces ignored her. She was suddenly glad that she changed after work and was now wearing fitting jeans and her leather riding jacket instead of her sensible fed clothes.

Jo spied her first from the corner table she was clearing.

"Jessa!" She abandoned her work and wrapped her in a hug.

"Hey, Jo."

"Jessa?" Ellen ran out from behind the bar and hugged her when Jo had let go, "You didn't tell us you were coming tonight."

"I thought I would surprise you guys."

"Well, it's a lovely surprise. Go put your stuff in your room and come sit down for a drink."

Jessa did as she was told and took her bag and bike helmet to her old room before returning to the bar. Ellen was waiting for her with a glass of whiskey already poured.

"To what do we owe this surprise?" She asked after Jessa had taken a sip of the drink.

"I got a promotion."

"Really? That's wonderful news!"

"It's in Virginia."

"Virginia?"

"I'm leaving first thing tomorrow."

"We'll miss you, sweetie."

Jessa smiled sadly, "I'll miss you guys. But this is such a great opportunity."

"I'm happy for you, Jessa."

"Why are you happy?" Jo came up beside Jessa with a tray full of empty glasses.

"I got a promotion. Which means moving again."

"Where to?"

"Virginia."

"But that means you can't come visit as often." Jo observed sadly, wrapping one arm around her, "I'm gonna miss you, Jessa."

"I'll miss you, too. But I'm going to visit as often as possible."

"Excuse me," A man approached the bar, "Can I grab a beer?"

Ellen nodded and grabbed a bottle and passed it to him. Jessa glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and she was sure her heart stopped beating. She knew his voice was familiar but there was no mistaking his face. His eyes were the exact shade of green as hers. At the bar a few seats down sat her twin brother, Dean Winchester.

"Jo, back to work please." Ellen ordered.

Dean tilted his head to look at Jo, obviously about to flirt with her, when he caught sight of Jessa. His eyes locked on to hers and Jessa tried to offer him a smile.

"Long time no see." Jessa whispered. "How are you, Dean?"

Anger flared in his eyes and he stood, towering over her. She was thankful that Jo had walked off, giving her enough space to stand, letting Dean know that he didn't intimidate her.

Ellen stood in her same spot, her eyes darting between the siblings.

"What the hell are you doing here, Jessa?" He asked, his voice even.

"I could ask you the same thing. Where's dad and Sam?"

"What makes you think I'm with dad?"

"Like he'd let you hunt alone."

"I'm twenty-six." He shook his head, "Anyway, you didn't answer my question."

"I'm passing through. Why are you here?"

"I heard this was a way-station for Hunters. I'm looking for dad."

"John wouldn't come here." Ellen told Dean, "He knows he ain't welcome."

"You know my dad?" Dean asked her.

"Knew. But like I said, he wouldn't come here."

"Dad's missing?" Jessa finally caught up.

"He was working a couple miles of blacktop outside of Jericho, California." His expression softened into sadness, "I haven't seen him since."

"Dean, you know dad. He's probably holed up somewhere with a bottle."

"That's what I thought until I got this." He pulled his phone from his pocket and played a message.

 _Dean...something big is starting to happen_ John's broken up voice crackled through the speaker, _...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger._

"That's EVP." Jessa told him.

"You're not out of practice." He grinned.

"Like riding a bike, Dean-o."

"Anyway, I slowed it down, ran it through a gold wave, and took out the hiss. I got this."

He pressed play again but this time it was a woman's voice, _I can never go home._ She said.

"That can't be good."

"You think?" He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "I could use some help on this, J." All his anger from earlier seemed to disappear as he pleaded, "I can't do this alone."

"Dean, I can't. I'm starting a new job on Monday."

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't need you. This is family, J. Is some job really more important than family?"

She sighed, he was right. "I'll help you find him, but I'm leaving on Sunday. I have to start my job on Monday."

"I'm not going to stop until I find him." Dean said, in a way that was almost pleading with her to help him the whole time.

"And I'll help you when I can, but I'm not going to drop my life in the process."

"Dad would do it for you."

"Would he?" She raised her voice to a yell. "I haven't seen him in nine years!"

"You walked out, Jessa!" He yelled back, "You walked away from us. When Dad found out you were gone, he was furious! He looked for you for months before he started working again. He dumped us at some crappy motel and disappeared looking for you."

She hung her head, she didn't realise her running away would affect him.

"I'm going to be in Virginia on Monday morning to start my job." She walked away to her room to grab her things.

* * *

"You ok, hun?" Jessa spun around to see Ellen leaning on the doorframe.

Jessa nodded and threw her duffel over her shoulder. "I'm fine."

"You don't have to go, you know. John's probably fine."

"I know, but I do have to go. I owe them that."

"Just don't go throwing your life away."

"I won't, Ellen. I'll be in Virginia by Monday. I'll call you."

"I love you, sweetie."

"Love you too."

"Make sure you say goodbye to Jo on your way out."

She walked back out into the bar to find Jo staring at her from the bar, trying to brush off Dean who was obviously attempting to flirt with her.

Jessa rolled her eyes and grabbed Dean by the collar and shoved him toward the door, putting her bag in his hands. "Meet me at the car."

"So, that's your brother." Jo said when she got back to the bar.

"He's a handful."

"Are you really going off with him?"

Jessa nodded, "For a few days."

Jo nodded in understanding, "Be safe."

Jessa wrapped her arms around her little sister, "I love you, Jo."

"Love you too."

"I have to go." She walked out of the Roadhouse to where Dean was leaning against John's Impala. "No way, Dad gave you his car?"

Dean shrugged, "Were you going to tell me about this?" He held up her badge, "You're a freaking Fed now?"

She snatched it from him, "You went through my bag?"

"When were you going to tell me?"

"I wasn't." She tucked her badge into her back pocket, "Open the trunk."

Dean obliged.

Jessa tossed her duffel into the space then pulled open the hidden compartment and grabbed one of the spare guns. She tucked it into the pocket inside of her jacket, "Let's go. It's twenty-four hours to Jericho."

"Not the way I drive."

Jessa held her bike helmet up, "Do not get me killed."

She slid the helmet over her head and mounted her bike and revved it sending gravel flying as she pulled on to the road behind Dean.

They stopped at a pay-by-the-hour motel in the wee hours of Friday morning, still a good twelve hours shy of their destination.

"Five hours." Dean told her when he climbed out of the car, "Five hours sleep and then we hit the road."

Jessa nodded and kicked the stand on her bike so she could climb off it. As much as she loved the thing, it was awful uncomfortable after twelve hours. She leaned against the Impala for a few minutes until Dean returned with a room key.

The room was like any other dodgy motel they stayed at, but Jessa didn't mind. She was exhausted and needed to sleep. She set the alarm clock for eleven am and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

When the piercing shriek of the alarm woke her, Jessa was all too happy to climb from the bed. Dean was up not long after and within thirty minutes they were on the road again.

Jessa pulled her bike to a stop just behind the Impala later that night, after a full day's travel.

"Dean what the hell are we doing here?" She asked, climbing off to confront him. "This isn't Jericho."

"I know."

"Then what the hell are we doing here?"

"There's someone I need to see."

"Dean, who lives here?" She hung her helmet on her handlebars and followed him into the building. "It's the middle of the night, who's going to be up?"

The pair went up a few flights of stairs before Dean stopped out the front of a door. He pulled out his lock picking things and expertly picked the lock.

"Dean!" Jessa hissed.

"Don't come in if you're chicken." He said before slipping through the door.

Jessa hung back outside until she heard the obvious sounds of a struggle. Rolling her eyes she pulled her gun out and entered the room, flicking the light on as she did so.

"Woah, easy tiger." Dean said.

Jessa had her gun trained on the man that Dean had pinned, his body blocking her view.

"Dean?" The man asked. "You scared the crap outta me."

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." As if to prove a point the man flipped, pinning Dean to the floor, "Or not."

Jessa slid her gun back into her jacket, deciding to let the two boys fight it out.

"Get off me."

The man climbed off, helping Dean to his feet.

"Dean what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well we were looking for beer."

"We?" He spun to see Jessa standing in the doorway. His eyes grew wide like he thought he was seeing things. "Jessa?"

"Nice to see you Sammy." She grinned, now recognising him, "Damn, you got big."

"Yeah well I'm not thirteen." He turned back to Dean, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"We gotta talk."

"Uh, the phone?"

"If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?"

"Sam?" A woman appeared from the bedroom, dressed in not much.

"Jess, hey. Dean, Jessa, this is my girlfriend Jessica."

Dean's expression changed and Jessa gave him a warning look but he ignored her.

"Wait, you're brother Dean?" Jess asked.

Sam nodded, "And my sister, Jessa."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"Estranged sister is a more appropriate description." Jessa offered, trying to hide the hurt that her baby brother had spoken with his girlfriend about Dean but not her.

"You know, I love the Smurfs." Dean said, nodding at the logo printed across Jess' chest, "And I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league."

"Just let me put something on." Jess told him.

"No, no. I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously."

"Dean!" Jessa and Sam said in unison.

"Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No." Sam said, walking over to where Jess stood, "Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

"Sam." Jessa cautioned.

"Okay." Dean paused to think of a way to say it, "Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So? He's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Jessa cut in, "Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam's expression didn't change when he spoke, "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

Sam led his siblings outside of his building.

"You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you."

"If it's any consolation, I was against the breaking in."

Sam just glared at her.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help us find him."

"Yeah, what's she doing here anyway?" Sam glanced quickly at Jessa.

"She's helping us find dad."

"Then why do you need me?"

"Because he's our father, Sam. It'll be easier with the three of us. We need to find Dad."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing and he's always fine."

"Not for this long. Now, are you going to come with us or not?"

Sam glared over at Jessa where she stood leaning against the rail. "I'm not."

"Why not?"

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on." Jessa said, "It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad."

"Says the girl that ran away."

"I may have left you guys, but I never left the life."

Dean turned and walked down the stairs, Sam and Jessa in tow.

"Whatever. When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."

Dean spun around, "What was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say don't be afraid of the dark."

Jessa scoffed, "You're kidding right? You should be afraid of the dark! You know damn well what's out there."

"But still. The way we grew up, after mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her."

"Are you trying to say that we should let the son of a bitch get away with it?" Jessa asked him.

"We still haven't found the damn thing!" He retorted. "So we kill everything we _can_ find."

"We save a lot of people doing it, too." Dean said.

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Sam asked after a pause.

Dean rolled his eyes and pushed open the door leading into the parking lot.

"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets?" Sam continued, "Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?"

Jessa didn't comment, she felt a little guilty because that was the kind of life she had been living. Sure, she stayed ready, salt, silver, iron. She even still took the occasional hunt but she had a home and a job, something most hunters didn't get.

"No, not normal. Safe!" Sam said, still mostly ignoring her.

"And that's why you ran away."

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Do you really think he meant it?" Jessa asked quietly. "I left in the heat of an argument, something I regretted almost instantly. I'm sure Dad felt the same."

"Sam, Dad's in trouble right now, if he's not dead already. I can feel it." There was silence, "We can't do this without you."

"Yes you can."

"But we don't want to." Jessa told him softly.

"What was he hunting?" Sam finally asked.

Dean grinned and pulled the trunk of the Impala open.

While he was looking for the information Sam asked, "So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?"

"I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"

Jessa chuckled and Dean answered defensively, "I'm twenty-six, dude. Why is everyone surprised by that?"

Sam looked at Jessa and offered a half smile.

"Alright, here we go."

While Dean started to explain the disappearances to Sam, Jessa tuned out. She already knew it all. She and Dean had gone over it at breakfast.

Dean played him the voice message, then the woman's voice.

"Alright." Sam said after he had been briefed, "I'll help you find him. But I have to be back first thing Monday."

"So does Jessa." Dean said.

Sam directed his next question at Jessa, "Where do you have to be?"

"Virginia."

"That's a hell of a drive. You might want to leave now."

She shrugged, "I'll have to fly."

"Sammy, what's on Monday?" Dean asked him.

"I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"Not a job interview. Law school. It's my entire future on a plate."

"Law School?" Jessa and Dean asked in unison.

"Yeah. Just wait here." He disappeared back into the apartment building.

"Why didn't you tell me that this was Sam's place?" Jessa asked her twin.

He just shrugged, "I don't know, J. It wasn't relevant."

They stood in silence until Sam returned.

"We good to go?" He asked, and both Dean and Jessa nodded. "Alright. I call shotgun."

Jessa laughed then climbed on her bike watching the look of shock on Sam's face. "See you boys in Jericho."

* * *

 **Another chapter for you :) I really really liked this one. Hope you do too.**

 **Xoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

Jessa waited atop her SuperHawk while Dean filled the Impala. She had her tank full long before Dean and Sam even arrived at the gas station. She watched the banter between her two brothers, feeling for the first time like no time had passed at all. It was like they were kids again, waiting for John to come back with a treat before they headed on another hunt.

Sam was trying to give Dean a lesson on morals, regarding the fake credit cards.

"We heading?" She asked them.

"You good?" Sam asked her.

She nodded, but her phone rang, "Hang on." She told her brothers. "Winchester." She answered. "Yes, sir. I understand. See you then, sir. Thank you."

"What was that about?" Dean asked.

"My new boss. I don't need to start until Monday after next."

Dean nodded, "Let's hit the road."

When Jessa rode into Jericho the first thing she noticed were the police cars on the bridge. She slowed the Hawk to a stop before kicking the stand up. The boys were still a ways behind her but she decided to start without them. She pulled her helmet off and sat it on the handlebars before climbing off. She looked down at her attire, a midriff tank with leather pants and combat boots. She adjusted her denim jacket and approached the hubbub, thankful that she had kept her badge in her pocket.

"Excuse me," She called to a deputy as she approached, "What's going on here?" She held up her badge for him to inspect.

"You don't look like a fed." He observed rudely.

Jessa smiled and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder, "I'm off duty. I was heading into town to see my cousin, we had plans for lunch." She lied easily. "This is his car."

"You know the victim?" The Deputy, Jaffe, asked.

"Victim? You mean, he's missing?" She mocked surprise.

"Afraid so."

"Is this the first?" She asked as if she didn't know.

Jaffe shook his head, "Had another one about a month back, there have been others before that."

"Any leads?"

He shook his head sadly.

"Alright, thanks Deputy." She walked back to the Hawk just as Dean and Sam pulled up in the Impala. "Don't bother." She told Dean when he moved to get out. "I already talked to them, they don't know anything."

"You started without us?" Dean complained.

"I have a legit badge." She countered, "I heard two of the deputy's talking, vic's girlfriend is hanging up posters."

It didn't take long to find her, they just followed the posters that were taped to every surface around town.

"Excuse me, Amy?" Jessa jogged up to her ahead of her brothers.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Jess, Troy's cousin."

"Oh."

"I was heading to town to surprise him when I heard he was missing, how are you holding up?"

She offered Jessa a weak smile before shrugging, "Ok, I guess."

"Were you with him, when he disappeared?"

Amy shook her head, "We were on the phone. He said he'll call me right back." She eyed Sam and Dean who had come to stand behind her.

"Amy, these are my brothers. Dean and Sammy." She introduced.

"Did he say anything weird or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked before Jessa could, but Amy shook her head.

"I like your necklace." Jessa complimented the silver pentagram that hung around her neck.

Amy smiled, "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff."

Sam chuckled, "Actually it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe that kind of thing."

"Okay." Dean cut in, "Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries. Here's the deal ladies, the way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…"

Amy looked at her feet then up again.

"Amy, do you know something?" Jessa asked.

"It's just, I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" Dean asked.

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago. Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

Jessa smiled, "Thank you for your time."

The trio walked away.

"You think there's anything to that story?" Sam asked when they were out of earshot.

"It's worth a look." Jessa said, "I think we passed the library up the street.

They walked a few minutes until they found the library. The siblings sat around a computer and Dean brought up the _Jericho Herald_ webpage. He navigated to the search page and began typing in parameters with no result.

"Let me try." Sam said, trying to get the mouse from Dean's hand.

"I got it." Dean said.

"Dean, give him a go." Jessa was perched on the table playing mediator.

Dean glared but shuffled his chair out of the way so Sam could have a turn. He clicked the search bar and changed the word 'Murder' to 'Suicide'.

"Angry spirits are born out of violent death, right? Maybe it's not murder."

"Suicide." Jessa mused, angry at herself for not thinking of it first.

Sam hit search and one result popped up.

"In 1981, Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."

"Why?" Jessa asked, more herself than Sam.

"Does it say?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam scrolled down the page.

"What?"

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." Sam brought up a picture.

"That bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asked, pointing at the image on the screen.

Jessa slid off the desk to get a good look at the picture, "That's where Troy went missing from."

"I saw we check out that bridge." Dean told his siblings.

"I think we ought to know more about this Constance Welch character."

"What more do we need to know?" Sam asked, "Vengeful Spirit, we got this."

"Something doesn't feel right."

"How do you mean?" Dean asked, knowing his twin's gut feelings were more often than not, even if they hadn't spoken in years.

"I just think that there's more to her."

"Jessa, you're overthinking this." Sam insisted.

"Fine. You two go check out the bridge, I'll do my own research." She stood, "Meet me at the motel on the edge of town."

The boys nodded in agreement and she stalked off.

Her first stop was the Sheriff's station. She approached the deputy at the front desk with a flirtatious smile.

"I was wondering if you could help me out with something." She asked the young man. He was clearly a rookie, his uniform was too dark and too pressed. "Please." She slid her credentials across the desk so he could clearly see that she was FBI.

"Wh- um, what can I help you with?" He stammered.

"I was wondering if you had case files from a suicide in '81."

"'81? Ma'am that was a long time ago. I doubt they even investigated it if it was a suicide."

"Humour me?" She drummed her red fingernails on the counter before flashing him another smile, "Please?"

He nodded and walked away.

"Agent?" The deputy from earlier, Jaffe, approached her, "What are you doing here?"

"I was wondering if you had any more information on Troy's disappearance."

"Sorry. No word."

"Here are the case files you wanted." The young deputy returned, "There isn't much."

"Deputy Simmons." Jaffe scolded, "What are you doing?"

"Agent Winchester asked for some files." He told him.

"You're dismissed, Simmons." Jaffe grabbed the file from the desk before Jessa could reach it. He flicked it open, "What are you doing investigating a suicide from the eighties?"

Jessa struggled to come up with a plausible lie, it shouldn't have been difficult she had been doing it her entire life.

"Well?" Jaffe grew impatient.

"I was looking into the bridge." Unable to find a lie she opted for a half truth. "I figured maybe whoever took Troy was like, connected to it somehow. I came across the suicide in the local paper."

"What does it have to do with your cousin's case?"

Jessa could tell he didn't believe her so she tried to play the grieving family member. "I'm desperate, ok? Besides my brothers, Troy is all I have left. I just thought maybe Constance Welch stumbled across an attempted abduction or something. I just want to find my cousin."

Deputy Jaffe sighed, "Fine." He handed her the file. "Bring it back in the morning."

"Thank you Deputy." She smiled gratefully before walking away.

* * *

Jessa pulled her Hawk up out the front of the motel she was meeting her brothers at. The sky was growing dark so she suspected the boys wouldn't be long.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if I could get a room?" She asked the clerk. He barely looked up from his comic, but he motioned to the guest book. She picked up the attached pen and went to sign it when she noticed the name a few spaces up: Burt Aframian. The name sounded familiar. It took her a moment before she remembered, Sam and Dean had been arguing about the credit cards. Aframain had been the name listed.

"Excuse me." She said to the clerk, "This man, Burt Aframian, can you tell me what room he was in."

He shook his head, "That's confidential."

Jessa pulled a handful of bills from her pocket, "Now?"

He handed her a room key.

"Thanks."

She found the room that matched the key and entered. The room was a mess. Maps, pictures, and notes littered every available surface. "What did you find, dad?" She mused, inspecting his research. She glanced around the room, noting a half-eaten hamburger. "Gross." She grabbed a bag and stuffed trash in it before succumbing to exhaustion and climbing into the shower. After a long, hot shower she climbed into one of the beds and drifted off.

She woke to the distinct sound of a lock being picked. Out of reflex, she grabbed a gun from the nightstand and pointed it at the door just as her intruders entered.

"Woah!" Sam put his hands up, "It's only us."

Jessa pulled the blanket over herself more. Her bag was in the Impala so she was wearing her midriff top from yesterday over top of her underwear. "Where have you two been?" Her gaze shifted to Dean as a smell assaulted her, "You reek."

He made a sound and then walked into the small bathroom.

"Do not some out until you smell better." She called after him with a smirk. "You find anything?" She asked Sam.

"Just Constance trying to run us off the bridge. What about you?"

She shook her head, "Sheriff's department doesn't have much but I think Dad was on to something," She pointed to a part of the wall that had a handwritten note.

"Woman in White?" Sam read.

Jessa nodded, "I've never hunted one personally, but I heard the occasional story come through the roadhouse."

Sam gave her a confused look.

"It's a Hunter hangout I worked at. Anyway, Woman In White, if I can recall correctly she kills unfaithful men."

"Wouldn't dad have found her body and burned it?" Sam asked.

Jessa shook her head, "Unless something happened before he did."

"Her husband." Sam said, looking over the article about Constance Welch that John had.

"He'd have to be in his sixties now."

"Sixty four." Sam corrected, "Assuming he's still alive."

"Well, we should talk to him and find Constance." Jessa reached her leather pants and tugged them on under the covers before getting up. "Should we wait for Dean?"

"Yes." Dean's muffled reply came before they heard the water turn on.

"At least we don't have to bring him up to speed." Sam offered, getting a chuckle out of Jessa. "Look, Jessa, about everything I said earlier…"

"Don't worry about it, Sammy. We all say things."

"Don't call me Sammy. It's Sam."

She shrugged.

"Alright, I'll start calling you Jessamine." His tone was threatening.

Jessa tossed a pillow at him, "Fine, Sam."

It was another few minutes before Dean returned, smelling a whole lot better than before.

"I'm getting breakfast. You guys want anything?" He asked.

Both Jessa and Sam shook their heads.

"Fine." He walked out of the room.

After about five seconds Sam's phone rang. "It's Dean." He told Jessa, "What?" he put it on speaker.

"Dude, five-oh. Take off."

Both Winchesters stook and began grabbing their things, "What about you?" Sam asked his big brother.

"They spotted me. Go find Dad."

Dean disconnected the call and Sam glanced out the window but quickly ducked away. "Go." He told Jessa.

They both climbed out the bathroom window, a feat that was far easier for Jessa than it was for Sam's six foot four form. They managed to get out of the room before any of the cops spotted them.

"Now what?" Sam asked.

"Husband?" Jessa offered. "Dean can take care of himself."

Sam nodded reluctantly.

"I parked my Hawk at the other end of the motel." She told him.

"Can you get it without being spotted?"

"I have a better idea. Meet me around the block." She spied the open window in the reception area and jumped through it, thankful that the clerk wasn't paying enough attention. She placed a fifty on the counter. "If the cops ask, I stayed in room ten." She told him, knowing ten was the furthest from John's room as possible.

The clerk stared at the money and, with a roll of her eyes, Jessa slammed down another fifty. He nodded and she calmly strolled away. She had just mounted her bike when a deputy spotted her.

"Agent." He greeted.

"Deputy, how can I help you?" She recognised him from the crime scene, and his uniform told her his name was Hein.

"What are you doing here?"

"Not a lot of places to stay." She shrugged.

"Know anything about who was staying up the other end?"

She shook her head, "I got in on dark, not long woke up." She played clueless, "Does it have something to do with Troy? Have you arrested someone?"

"We've made on arrest. We're not quite sure of his involvement but the room he was in is covered with information about the case and he was seen hanging around the crime scene last night." He took a look at her on the bike, "Are you leaving?"

She shrugged, "I was only checked in overnight. I'll hang around as long as I can but I have to get home at some point."

Deputy Hein nodded, "I'll leave you to it."

"Deputy!" She called and he spun around to look at her. She pulled the files from her jacket, "Deputy Jaffe gave me these to look over. Waste of time really."

He looked at the file in his hand and nodded before walking away.

Jessa pulled her helmet over her head and sped off to meet Sam. She saw him sitting at a bus stop waiting for her.

"Need a ride?" She smirked.

"Yeah, I'm not getting on that thing." Sam informed her.

"It's a long walk to Mr Welch's place."

Sam groaned and jumped on behind her.

"Do you want the helmet?" He shook his head and Jessa took off.

They stopped at a local store and Sam charmed the shop girl enough for her to allow him to use the phone book. It didn't take long to find Joseph Welch.

"Stay here." Sam ordered when they arrived.

Jessa didn't like to take the sideline but she sat obediently on the Hawk while Sam went to interview the man.

Almost twenty minutes later he returned. "Well?" Jessa asked him.

"Yep. Woman in White."

"Cheating bastard." She muttered and swung her leg over the bike. "Next stop?"

"Well, it's been a couple of hours. The cops should be done at the motel by now, we should get the car."

"If the cops haven't taken it."

They made the trip back to the motel to find the Impala sitting in the same position as this morning.

"Thank god." Sam commented as Jessa killed the Hawk's engine.

The first thing he did was pop the trunk and check that all their weapons were still there. Then she pulled the gun from her jacket and checked the clip.

"Why don't you use your own gun?" Sam asked, having seen the government-issue weapon in her duffel.

"If I fire it, it's traceable." She told him, "The one I took from Dean, not so much." She tossed her bag back into the trunk, "Speaking of, how are we going to bust him out?"

Sam thought for a moment before saying, "Couldn't you flash your badge and make something up about a federal investigation?"

"No," She shook her head, "It's too easy to check." There was silence for a few minutes before Jessa spoke again, "Town like this, how many cops do you reckon are on shift?"

Sam shrugged, "What are you thinking?"

"Would a 911 call get most of them out of the way?"

Sam chuckled, but fished some coins from his pocket and jogged to the nearby payphone.

* * *

When he returned Jessa had finalised a plan. "It's dark, and we've got to waste this bitch before she kills again."

"Agreed."

"You take the car and I'll get Dean and meet you on Breckenridge Road."

"Fine."

Before he shut the truck, Jessa grabbed an empty duffel and slipped in a small bottle of accelerant, a book of matches and a shotgun with a handful of salt rounds. "Meet you there." She slung the bag over her shoulder and mounted her bike.

She knew her twin. Before she ran away they had been practically inseparable, so she had gotten good at anticipating his moves. Sure enough, when she pulled up a few blocks from the Sheriff's station, Dean was speaking to someone on a payphone.

His head shot up when he saw the beam from the Hawk's headlight.

"Boy am I glad to see you." He said, jumping on behind her. "Constance has Sam."

Needing no more motivation, she revved the bike and sped off down the road leaving a strip of rubber on the blacktop.

"Gun in the bag." She shouted at Dean over the roar of the wind as they were speeding down Breckenridge road. She hoped he could hear her, and after a moment she felt his hands slide free of her waist and fumble with the zip on the bag.

When they approached the dilapidated building that once belonged to the Welch's she could see Constance leaning over Sam, and could hear his cries of pain. Dean was off the Hawk and shooting before Jessa had pulled it to a complete stop. Jessa was behind him as soon as she could be, firing her gun into her head, knowing the silver rounds were useless against the spirit.

Before she had time to think of anything, the car's engine revved as Sam drove it straight into the old house. She watched in horror as the wall crumpled around the beloved Impala. She and Dean took off running towards it and she helped Dean shift the wreckage to get Sam free.

"Sam!" Dean called, "Are you ok?"

"I think…" He started.

"Can you move?"

"Yeah, help me?"

While Dean helped Sam from the car, Jessa stared at Constance. The woman was staring sadly at a portrait. She watched as her expression changed and suddenly a set of drawers came flying at them. Jessa managed to dodge the furniture, but Sam and Dean were trapped. She dived at the shotgun that lay abandoned by the car.

"Jessa! No." It was Sam. His cry caused her to pause. "Just wait." His expression was pleading so she obliged.

She watched as the ghosts of the two children appeared. They stared at their mother. "You've come home to us, Mommy." They said in unison, hugging around her middle.

Constance let out a scream as the three of them disappeared, melting into the floor. As soon as they were gone Jessa started shoving the drawers off her brothers, freeing them.

"How in the hell did you know that was going to work?" She asked Sam, her voice a mix of equal parts admiration and anger.

He just shrugged.

"So this is where she drowned her kids." Dean observed.

"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them." Sam explained.

"Nice work, Sammy." Dean slapped him on the chest, where there was a wound from Constance.

"Ow." He said, half chuckling.

"You sure you're ok, Sam?" Jessa asked her little brother.

"Fine, Jessa."

"I'll tell you something." Dean said from behind them. Sam and Jessa spun to see him inspecting the damage on his car, "If you screwed up my car I'll kill you."

Both Sam and Jessa scoffed.

"Just be thankful we're all still alive." Jessa told him.

Her twin gave her a look that was half amusement and half disbelief, "Easy for you to say! Your ride is sitting out there, unharmed."

She laughed and looked at her SuperHawk, she did love that bike. It took her months of saving and when she finally bought it she had been so proud.

"We better hit the road." Dean declared after a few moment's silence.

"Yeah, get Sam back to school." Jessa agreed, "I'll head on to Virginia."

"Can't believe you're a fed now." Dean said, shaking his head.

"Yeah," Sam agreed jokingly, "Who knew a life of lawbreaking would lead someone to a job in law enforcement."

Jessa laughed, but Dean remained serious.

"Anyway, I've got one hell of a trip in front of me." She told them, taking a few steps away.

"Sure you don't want to hit the road with us?" Dean asked, "Like old times."

She shook her head sadly, "Dean, I can't."

He nodded his understanding, a hint of betrayal reflecting in his green eyes.

"Like I said, I'll help out when I can but I'm not a Hunter anymore." She reefed open the trunk and switched the bag she had for her duffel. She opened the zip halfway and produced a pen. Grabbing Dean's hand, she scribbled down her number, "I don't want to wait another nine years to see you again." She wrote the number on Sam's arm too.

Sam smiled and wrapped his only sister in a hug, "I missed you, Jessa."

"Keep in touch." She pressed a kiss to his cheek, then to Dean's before turning away and climbing on her bike.

She offered them a wave before she pulled her helmet over her head and rode off, her long blonde hair trailing in the breeze.

* * *

 **I hope you are enjoying this story.**

 **Xoxo**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Ok, so I git a major block when I tried writing this chapter so it took me so long. But when I finally got it, I smashed out another three chapters easily so yay.**

 **This chapter is Jessa's first case with the BAU and in this story i've taken out Elle because I really really don't like her character.**

 **Hope you enjoy.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

By the time Monday rolled around, Jessa had found and moved into a one bedroom flat about half an hour out of Quantico.

It was the morning of her first day and she stood in front of the bathroom mirror adjusting her pale blue blouse. Instead of her usual bright lipstick and dark eyes, she was wearing natural colours. She felt naked walking around in the sensible dress shoes, rather than her big black combat boots. She chuckled when she thought of her brothers, Dean would never let her hear the end of it if he saw her dressed like this. She slipped her credentials into the pocket inside her blazer and strapped her gun to her hip before tugging her biking jacket over her blazer and grabbing her gloves and helmet.

During her initial contact with Agent Hotchner, he told her to have a go-bag on hand so she had gone out and bought a nice leather overnight bag so she wouldn't have to use her old duffel. She had it slung over her shoulder as she rode to the FBI building at Quantico. She stood before the large building clutching her helmet in her gloved hand, trying to calm her nerves. After a couple of minutes she entered, not wanting to be late on her first day.

When the elevator doors closed she peeled off her jacket and gloves and checked her appearance in the side of the elevator. When the doors chimed she stepped out into a busy bullpen. She headed toward the stairs that she knew would lead her to Agent Hotchner's office when she was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Look at you, Bright Eyes." Derek Morgan stood in front of her with a grin on his face, "I almost didn't recognise you without all the leather and denim. What are you doing here?"

She grinned at him, "I heard you guys were in need of a profiler."

"No way, you're Hotch's new hire?"

"Guilty." She smirked.

"That's great." He wrapped her in a hug. When he pulled back he nodded toward her helmet and jacket clutched in her hands, "You finally bought that bike, I see."

She nodded, "Best decision I ever made." A moment of awkward silence passed between them before Jessa said, "I should go see Agent Hotchner before I'm late."

"Yeah." He agreed sitting back down at the desk Jessa assumed was his.

She made her way up to Agent Hotchner's office and knocked before he told her to enter.

"Agent Winchester." He greeted, "Good to see you again."

"I want to thank you Agent Hotchner, for this opportunity."

"Call me Hotch." He smiled, shaking her hand. "Did you bring a go-bag?"

She tapped her hand on the bag hanging from her shoulder, "Yes, sir."

"Good, because I got word of a case this morning." He led her to the door, "I'll how you to your desk and introduce you to the team."

"Yes, but who is she?" A blonde agent sat on a desk while a younger one was reclined behind it. "An ex of Morgan's?"

The two agents conversing looked vaguely familiar from the Roadhouse two years previous, but Jessa couldn't be sure. Her focus had been entirely on Jo that night.

"She was a waitress in Nebraska two years ago." The younger agent whispered back.

Hotch cleared his throat and the two agents stopped talking abruptly.

"Agent Winchester, this is your desk." He tapped his hand on an empty desk right by Derek's. He then nodded at each of the agents, "These are Agent's Morgan, Jareau and Dr Reid." He finished his introductions then added to the rest of the team, "Briefing in fifteen."

"I'm JJ." The blonde agent, Jareau, told her when Hotch walked off.

"Jessa." Jessa told her, putting her things on her new desk and sitting behind it.

"What kind of motorbike do you ride?" The other agent, Reid, asked trying to make conversation.

"2001 Honda VTR1000F. They call it a SuperHawk." She told them, but judging by the looks on their faces they had no clue what she was talking about.

She found that the bottom drawer at her desk was just big enough to fit her helmet and jacket, with the added bonus of it locking.

Derek scooted his chair over to Jessa's desk, "What have you been doing with yourself, Bright Eyes? I haven't spoken to you in about a year, now."

She shrugged, "A year in the Omaha field office isn't all that exciting."

"Omaha." He smiled, "Not far from home then."

"A few hours. The Hawk made it an easy trip." She locked her bike gear in the drawer and stood, "Now, you have to show me to the briefing room."

He made a show of saluting as if she had just given him an order before he led her toward the conference room. Reid and JJ had beaten them there, and Hotch walked in when Jessa sat down.

"This is SSA Jessamine Winchester. She comes to us from Omaha." Hotch announced, then introduced her to the remaining member of the team, "This is Agent Gideon." Gideon was an older man with a stern expression but kind eyes. He had a pair of drug store glasses perched on the end of his nose.

"Just Jessa, please." She told him.

"Alright." Hotch said, signalling the pleasantries over, "JJ?"

JJ stood up and handed them each a file, "Cheyenne, Wyoming. Last week 30-year-old single mother of two, Abigail Griffith was murdered out the front of the Legal Aid firm where she worked. She was shot four times in the chest before her face was mutilated with a blade, they had to use dental records to ID her." Jessa opened the file to see an image of a dead body, "A week before that 24-year-old Ashley Grahame was killed as she was leaving work, also a single mother. Ashley was a retail sales person, same MO: shot four times before her face was mutilated."

"This guy is obviously targeting single mothers." Gideon began, "But is the facial mutilation part of his MO or a countermeasure to slow down identification?"

"Their purses were missing, but it seems too personal for it to be a robbery." Morgan stated.

"Both women still had their jewellery, so chances are the UnSub took their purses to stop them being identified." Reid said.

"Alright, wheels up in thirty." Hotch told them, standing and leaving the room.

"Wheels up?" Jessa said, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

Morgan chuckled, "Hotch didn't tell you about the Jet?"

She shook her head which made Morgan laugh more. He draped his arm over her shoulder and steered her from the room, "Well, allow me to tell you about the Jet."

* * *

The jet was impressive. Not that Jessa had anything to compare it to, all her travelling had been done in the Impala or on her Hawk. She tried not to freak out when the plane was taking off, hating the feeling of being forced against the back of the seat.

"You ok there, Bright Eyes?" Morgan asked from the seat across the aisle. He chuckled at her pale face and white-knuckle grip on the arm rests.

"Have ever been in a plane before, Jessa?" JJ asked, her voice didn't have the humour that Morgan's did. Instead she was concerned.

"Never. Oh god." She cursed as the wheels left the ground, leaving her stomach behind.

"You'll get used to it." Hotch told her.

"I thought you said you travelled a lot as a kid." Morgan asked.

"From the comfort of Dad's Impala."

"Relax," Gideon said, patting her knee, "It'll get better."

And it did. Once they were at altitude Jessa relaxed, she wasn't freaked out anymore but she dared not look out the windows until the plane landed safely in Cheyenne.

* * *

The first four days were spent going over evidence and crime scenes and witness statements. It wasn't until Friday when they found a third body that they got their first solid lead. It led them to a local bartender that fit their profile perfectly.

"Let's go." Hotch declared, and the five Agents followed him to their vehicles.

Both Government Issue SUV's came to a stop out the front of the townhouse with a screech of tires, and the agents leapt out. Jessa could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for the signal to enter. She had done her fair share of breaking and entering, but it was more of a dead of the night, pick the lock, get in and out before anyone notices thing.

When she heard the signal, Jessa raised her gun and slipped inside behind the other agents. They cleared the downstairs before she and Morgan headed up the stairs. When they were satisfied that the house was empty, they began a search.

A thorough search of the residence turned up nothing, until they reached the spare room. Jessa pulled the door to the closet open and a backpack fell to the floor at her feet. She slowly undid the zip and resting in the bottom of the bag was a gun, knife, and bloody clothes.

"I've got something." She told Morgan.

He was behind her in a moment and she handed him the bag and continued to look in the closet. She had to stand on her tip-toes to reach the top shelf but her hands landed on something she she pulled it down to see what it was.

"Morgan. Check this out." She handed him the victims ID's and back cards that she found.

"You serious?" He asked with a smile, "We got him."

When Morgan was looking over the evidence, Jessa glanced out the window and saw their suspect. "Morgan." She pointed out the window, just as Scott Simmons realised what was happening and took off running down the street. "He's running."

Jessa spied the open window and lunged for it, grateful that it was on the first floor and not the second. She landed on the pavement in a crouch, ignoring the stinging in her arm, knee, and face where she had taken skin off, and took off after the unsub, drawing her gun as she ran.

"FBI, stay where you are!" She had stopped running and her breath came heavy as she kept the gun trained on the now stationary unsub. Scott Simmons raised both hands in a surrendering gesture and turned to face her. Hotch and Morgan had caught up, and in her peripheral vision she could see them with their guns trained on Simmons.

Jessa slipped her gun into her holster and pulled out her cuffs. She took a step towards him and he grinned at her and stepped backwards onto the busy street, just in front of a bus. The bus braked, and tires squealed as Jessa rushed to the unsub, calling 911 as she went. She bent over the bloody, broken form of Simmons and checked for a pulse. None.

It only took a couple of minutes for the ambulance to arrive but the paramedics were unable to revive him.

Hotch led Jessa away as uniforms arrived with the coroner.

"You ok, Winchester?" He asked.

"Fine." She answered feebly. She glanced at her arm and saw the steady trickle of blood, "Just skinned myself up jumping out of that window."

"That was a careless move."

She shrugged, "I didn't have time to think."

After giving her statement to the uniforms, Jessa climbed into the waiting SUV and the team left.

* * *

"You're awful quiet." Morgan came and sat next to her on the plane, handing her a cup of coffee.

Jessa took a sip and offered him a smile, "Not much to say is all."

"You with nothing to say?" He joked, causing Jessa to laugh weakly. "You did good today."

She just nodded and continued staring out the window into the darkness. They had left Cheyenne almost two hours previously and it was nearing the middle of the night and they still had nearly four and a half hours until they were home.

"I'm serious. You did a good job."

"If I did good, Scott Simmons would be in a cell right now, not a refrigerated drawer."

"It wasn't your fault, Jessa." He assured her. "Guys like that don't want to get caught. He did it, not you." Jessa shrugged, so Morgan tried to change the subject. "How's the head?"

Jessa raised her hand to touch the tender spot above her eye where a bruise was beginning to form. She had grazed it on the sidewalk when she had leapt out of the window, along with her knee and elbow. "Fine. Well, sore, but I'll be fine."

"I still think you should have got it checked out at the scene. You probably have a concussion."

"Seriously, I grazed it. No concussion." She told him, "I'm just looking forward to a long hot shower and sleeping all weekend."

"No arguments there." He agreed with a chuckle.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So, i've had a lot of free time lately and have done nothing but write more chapters for this story. I've now written up to chapter 11, so I decided to post this early. Next chapter will probably be on Saturday.**

 **Anyway, so enjoy.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

"You ready?" Morgan asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Go." Jessa told him.

"Alright." He tossed the Skittle from his desk. The treat sailed through the air until Jessa caught it in her mouth. "Hell yeah. What's that now, nineteen out of twenty?"

"Nineteen out of nineteen." She corrected. "The other one didn't count."

"What? It did so count."

"Nah-uh. Reid distracted me."

At the mention of his name, Reid's head snapped up. "How did I distract you?"

"You did that thing that you do with the probability and statistics and whatnot."

Morgan chuckled, "That's his thing! You can't count that as a distraction."

"Briefing." JJ called to them from the mezzanine floor.

The three agents nodded their understanding headed toward the briefing room.

When they got to the briefing room, Hotch and Gideon were already sitting waiting for them. Jessa, Morgan and Reid took their seats and JJ began her briefing.

"Three teenaged girls have been found stabbed to death over the last month." She began, "The first was three weeks ago, a Tuesday, the second was exactly seven days later and the third was nine after that." She clicked the remote and images appeared on the screen. "Each girl was found in the mornings, displayed in local playgrounds."

"Where?" Morgan asked her.

"Lawrence, Kansas." The colour drained from Jessa's face, but no one seemed to realise.

The team kept talking, but Jessa couldn't hear them. She couldn't hear anything. It was like a fog had settled over her brain.

"Jessa!" Jessa snapped out of her daze, unaware of how much time had passed. A quick look around the room told that it was a while; everyone else was gone aside from her and Morgan, who was trying to get her attention.

"What?"

"Come on, wheels up."

"Oh." She stood up and slowly gathered up her file.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine."

"You completely zoned out during briefing."

"Yeah, I'm just tired." She lied. A glance at him told her the he didn't believe her, but she didn't bother to give a better excuse.

* * *

Jessa didn't contribute to conversation once on the two and a half hour flight to Lawrence. She could tell that the team knew something was up, but she didn't feel like explaining anything.

When they touched down, she was sent to the second crime scene with Morgan. Before Morgan could argue, Jessa climbed behind the wheel of the SUV and waited for him. The drive to the crime scene was silent, and Jessa was thankful that he didn't ask any questions.

Walking around the scene, things almost felt normal. The detective they met with was kind, and answered most of the questions they asked.

"So, she definitely wasn't killed here." Morgan stated, "Which means he either lives on the street or has a vehicle."

Jessa looked at the quiet suburban street around them. She wasn't very old when she left Kansas, but she soaked in the familiarity, she had been here before.

"Are you suggesting knocking on doors? Because I don't want to do that."

"Now that you mention it, that's a great idea Winchester." He joked like it was her idea, but Jessa knew he was serious about knocking on doors.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine."

"Alright. You take right, I'll take the left."

She nodded and walked to the start of the street and knocked on the first door.

Jessa seemed to get stuck with the really chatty older people and Morgan seemed to finish his side much faster than she did.

At one point Morgan was at the house next to her.

"Good morning, ma'am." Jessa greeted, like she had been all morning. "I'm SSA Winchester with the FBI. I just want to ask you a few questions regarding the body that was found in the park across the street two weeks ago."

The woman nodded.

"Did you notice anything odd or out of the ordinary around that time?"

"Does bad wiring count?" The woman chuckled, "Although, that's hardly out of the ordinary. This old house needs to be rewired."

Jessa forced a smile. "Thank you for your time."

"Wait, what did you say your first name was?"

"Uh, I didn't." She told her. "Jessa. Winchester."

The woman's smile grew, "I'm Jenny. Um, stay here."

The door closed in Jessa's face and she stood slightly shocked.

"What was that about?" Morgan asked, walking up behind her after finishing his houses.

"I don't know." Jessa whispered, turning to face him. Her gaze rested on his for a moment before they drifted to the large tree in the front yard.

"You alright, Winchester?"

She shrugged, but didn't answer because the door opened and Jenny reappeared with an old trunk in her hand.

"Sorry it took so long, I think there's rats in the basement. Anyway, I found this in the basement last night. I think it belongs to you."

Jessa took the trunk from her and opened it. Sitting on top of everything was a picture of her family. In the photograph, Jessa was on John's back, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and she looked as though she was laughing. Dean was resting comfortably in John's arms and Mary clutched a baby Sam to her chest. They looked like a proper, happy family.

"Thank you." She whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "Really, thank you."

"It belongs to you." Jenny smiled.

"Thank you." She said again, "But I'd better head off."

She turned and left without another word.

"Jessa." Morgan spoke when they were back in the SUV with Jessa behind the wheel. "You didn't tell me you lived here."

"I told you I was from Kansas."

"Why didn't you mention anything at briefing?"

She snapped, "I promised myself that I would never come back here and there is a good reason for that! My mom died in that house." She didn't add that whatever killed her was back.

Morgan was silent for a moment before he spoke again, "I'm sorry, Jessa. I didn't know."

"Yeah, well, I'm not big on people knowing my business."

* * *

When they got back to the police station, Jessa hung back while Morgan went to relay what they had learned about the case to the team.

When she was out of earshot from anyone else, she pulled out her phone and dialled Dean's number.

"Heya, J. Long time, no speak. What's up?"

She tried to get the emotion out of her voice before she spoke, "Where are you?"

"Oklahoma. Why?"

"I need your help. I'm on a case and I picked up on something that might be your kind of thing."

"What is it?"

"No idea."

"Where are you at?"

"You're not going to like it, Dean."

"Jessamine, where are you?"

"Lawrence."

"No."

"Dean, please." Emotion seeped in as she begged her twin, "I wouldn't call if it wasn't important. I think whatever killed Mom is back in our old house."

"J, please. Don't make me come home." He was on the verge of tears. "We made a promise that we would never come back."

"Dean, there is another family in danger there and you need to help them!"

"J—"

"Dean, you've been hunting this thing for twenty-two years and now you have the opportunity to kill it but you won't because of some promise that two scared kids made?!"

"Fine." He snapped. "We're five hours out."

"Thank you, Dean."

She just hung up the phone when a strange woman appeared in front of her.

"I'm sorry, can I help you?"

"You were right to call him, you know."

"What?"

"There's some real evil in that house."

"Who are you?" Jessa asked, shocked. Who was this woman, and what was she talking about?

"Missouri Mosely. I'm a friend of your father."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I know a lot of things, dear. You need to save that family." With that statement, she turned and walked off leaving a stunned Jessa behind

* * *

It was late when the team got to the hotel and Jessa hung back to meet her brothers, only Morgan sensed something was going on and hung back too.

"What's going on, Jessa?"

"None of your business." She said, waiting.

"Come on, Bright Eyes. Are you forgetting that I know you?"

He tried to lighten her mood but she just chuckled humourlessly. "You don't know me, Derek. You know someone, but it sure as hell ain't me."

"Then let me in!"

Again, she laughed, "You wouldn't like what you find out."

"Who says?"

"Just leave me alone, Derek."

"No." He stared at her defiantly, "Jessa, I'm not going anywhere until you let me in."

"Derek." She whispered, "I couldn't stand you of all people seeing me differently."

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "That's never going to happen, Bright Eyes."

Jessa leaned into him for a moment, but the sound of a car approaching caused her to pull back. When the Impala pulled up, Jessa was shocked to see both of her brothers climb out.

The first thing she did was throw herself at Dean, hugging around his neck, "I'm so glad you came."

"Where else would we be, J?" He pulled back and glanced at Derek, "Who's he?"

"That's Derek, he's a friend of mine." Then she turned to Sam, "Please tell me you hopped a flight from Cali."

Sam shook his head.

"Sammy, you were going to be a lawyer."

He just shrugged, "Things happen."

"Like Dad being missing? You could have stayed at school!"

"It's not just that, Jessa." He looked away sadly, "Jessica died."

"What? When?"

"Just after Jericho."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"What could you have done? You've been absent since I was thirteen!"

"I'm sorry, Sam. I really am." She reached out and squeezed her brother's hand. "How?"

"Like Mom."

The shock on her face was evident, but Dean cut in. "We stopped by the house."

"What do you think?"

"I think you're right. Something is there."

"Someone came to see me today." Jessa told them, "She could be a nutjob but I got the feeling she could help."

"What's her name?"

"Missouri Mosely."

"Wait." Dean reached into the Impala and grabbed John's old hunting journal. "The first thing he ever wrote in here: 'I went to Missouri and learned the truth'. I always thought he was talking about the state."

"We should check that out first thing." Sam said.

"Let me know what you find out?"

"Of course."

"Good." Jessa paused, she wanted to tell them about what Jenny had given her, but she selfishly kept it to herself. She wanted something of their mother that the boys didn't have. Instead, she hugged each of them and watched them climb back into the Impala and drive off. When they were gone she tuned back to Derek.

"That was a very confusing conversation." He stated, "But I'm not going to press."

"Thank you."

"Come on, let's get some sleep because we've still got a killer to catch."

* * *

 **I'm actually so happy with how this chapter and the next one turned out. I hope you liked :)**

 **Xoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

Jessa found that she was far more tired than she expected to be, and groaned audibly when her alarm went off.

"For God's sake!" She slammed her hand down on the snooze button.

"Come on, Winchester." JJ said. She was already dressed and was sitting at the tiny table with two paper cups of coffee in front of her.

Jessa had only worked with the BAU for five months, but everyone—Especially JJ—knew she wasn't a morning person and needed coffee to get moving. "Thanks." She grumbled, taking a cup and gulping down some of the scorching liquid.

"Hotch will be angry if you aren't ready to go."

Jessa just nodded and shuffled into the small bathroom, still in a zombie-like state. Surprisingly, it didn't take her long to get ready for the day, and when she emerged from the bathroom she downed the last of the coffee.

"Ready to go?" She asked, already feeling the effects of the caffeine.

* * *

The day was uneventful as far as the case was concerned. Sam and Dean, on the other hand, had more luck.

Dean had called around lunch time to explain everything.

"So, it turns out that this Missouri is a psychic." He told her.

"I was right, she's a nutjob." Jessa sighed.

"Not quite. She's legit."

"No way."

"Way."

"Dean, how many honest-to-God psychics have we come across in the last twenty years?"

"I know, but this Missouri, is the real deal. Plus she knows Dad. She's the one that told him about the Supernatural."

"Alright. What did she say?"

"Well, Dad took her to the house after Mom died. Said there was some serious evil there."

"That's what she told me yesterday."

"Yeah, well, me and Sammy are taking her back now."

"Alright, just don't go breaking the law."

"Ah, J come on, you take the fun out of everything."

"Just save that family." She hung up without another word.

"Everything ok?" She hadn't heard Reid come up behind her.

"Shit, Reid. You scared me." She laughed, "But yeah, everything is fine." The lie slipped out easily, having spent her whole life doing it.

"Are you sure? Because you've been distracted this whole case."

"I'm fine, Reid. Morgan's already spoken to me about it. I've got my head in the game."

* * *

The next time she heard from Dean was a text at almost midnight. She was still at the station going over evidence with the team, still far from having a solid lead. The text simply read _Problem solved._

It wasn't long after that that Hotch sent them all back to the hotel, but Jessa was too high on caffeine to sleep so she found herself sitting in the hotel's lobby with the case files spread out in front of her. That was how Morgan found her at around four am.

"Have you been down here all night?"

"That depends." She answered without looking up.

"On…?"

"What time is it?"

"About four."

"Then yes."

"Jessa, get some sleep."

"I can't. This case is bugging me."

"That's my problem too." Morgan sat down opposite her. "Found anything new?"

"Maybe."

"What is it?"

Jessa grabbed the four images of the deceased girls. "There. Right on the hairline. It's small, and mostly healed but it's there." She was pointing a mark just behind the ear of each girl.

"I see it." He frowned as he stared at the images, "What is it?"

"I don't know. We'll have to get Garcia to enhance the images when it's a more appropriate hour."

"Well, what are your thoughts?"

"These girls weren't random." She grabbed her case notes from the mess in front of them. "Victims one and two were homeless, so we just figured he found them and killed them."

"Yeah, victims of opportunity."

"Right. But, what if he selected them first. Maybe he killed them because they were no longer of use to him."

"Ok, but what about vics three and four? They weren't homeless."

"No but," She flicked through her notes. "Victim number three, Annabelle Warren, her parents had both been laid off in the last couple of months and they're receiving unemployment benefits."

"And Stacy Cartwright, vic number four?"

"Living with a single parent. Blue collar father."

"What's your working theory?"

"They're doing something to earn money, and it most likely involves the Unsub."

"That's not actually a bad theory. Except what is the significance of the playgrounds?"

"That is the only flaw." Jessa sighed. "At first I thought it could be a location thing, like it was close to where he kills them. But they're too spread out for that. Then I thought that maybe it was the only place that the unsub could guarantee the bodies would be found, or maybe it meant something to the unsub but the more I think about it, the more I think that it has to have some deeper significance."

They were still brainstorming ideas when the sun came up, and when the rest of the team found them.

"How long have you two been down here?" JJ had asked.

"Morgan's only been here for a couple of hours, but I've been here since we got back." Jessa answered, sweeping all of the papers into a pile.

"Any breakthroughs?" Hotch asked.

"Jessa thinks that the victims are pre-selected." Morgan supplied.

"It's just a theory. I'll have to get Garcia to check up on a couple of things."

She called Garcia on the drive to the station, and by the time they got there Garcia had called back with answers. She had enhanced the crime scene photos to reveal a small circular brand behind the victims' ears which led them to a child prostitution ring.

"That's most of your theory proven." Morgan told Jessa after Garcia had hung up.

"Yeah, but he wouldn't kill his own girls."

"What if he wasn't part of it?" Gideon supplied. "What if he's killing them because of what they're doing?"

"He's probably got a daughter around that age." Hotch added.

"The playgrounds!" Jessa practically yelled.

"What about them?" JJ asked.

"Last night we couldn't come up with a reason why he would display them in a playground."

"But you have now?" Reid asked.

"The oldest girl is, what, fifteen?"

"Victim number two, Ashley White, fifteen."

"Right and look at how she's dressed. She's been made to look a lot older than she is."

"She's dressed pretty provocatively." Morgan agreed, "So he's killing them because, what, they're acting older than they are?"

"It's a pretty good theory." Hotch said, "Best we've got." He grabbed the phone and dialled Garcia, putting it on speaker.

"Lay it on me." She answered.

"Garcia, what schools do the victims attend?" Gideon asked.

"Uh." There was a brief pause, "They all attend Liberty Memorial Central."

"How many students?" Hotch added.

"Quite a few."

"We only need the girls."

"Ok, shorter, but I still need more."

"Garcia, try girls with brown hair, brown eyes. Like the victims." Jessa told her.

"Oh, you are good, my friend. Nine names, including the victims, five excluding."

"Are any of those from single parent households, baby girl?" Morgan asked her.

"No."

"What about any with overdue bills or missed payments?" JJ tried.

"And then there was one. Lucy Moore, parents Bill and Arlene. He's a mechanic and she's a housewife. Most of their bills are unpaid, and the power has been switched off in their home twice over the last few months."

"Great work, thanks Garcia." Hotch hit the 'end call' button.

JJ pulled up Lucy's picture from the file Garcia had just sent them.

"She could be their sister." JJ pointed out.

"Where does Bill Moore work?" Reid asked.

"Guenther Mechanics."

"Alright, Reid you take JJ to the school and interview the daughter. Morgan and I will take the house and Winchester and Gideon can go to the garage."

They all nodded, accepting the assignments.

The car ride was silent on the way to Guenther Mechanics, with Jessa trying to work out why that name sounded so familiar.

When they arrived they found the owner, Mike Guenther, under the hood of an old car.

"Excuse me, I'm SSA Winchester, this is SSA Gideon."

"Don't you feds talk?" He asked, straightening up and wiping his greasy hands on an old rag.

"Excuse me?"

"Two of you fella's came in yesterday asking questions about John Winchester."

Jessa cursed. Her brothers had so many aliases, and they had to use federal agent ones now?

"This is a different investigation." Gideon supplied, unaware that the feds he was referring to were fake. "We're looking for one of your employees, Bill Moore."

"Bill's over there." He pointed to a pair of grease stained, overall clad legs peeking out from under an old Ford.

Gideon nodded and approached him, but Jessa hung around.

"You haven't changed much." Mike offered.

"Excuse me?"

"It's been a few years. You were yay big last time I saw you." He held out his hand to indicate a height around his waist.

"This was Dad's garage." She stated, the penny finally dropping.

"It was Winchester and Guenther Automotive up until '83. Losing your Momma was hell on Johnny and I guess he couldn't bear to stay. What's he up to these days?"

"I don't know." Jessa shrugged, "I haven't spoken to him in nine years."

"Damn shame what happened to your family."

Jessa offered him a smile but didn't have time to say anything because Gideon shouted as their suspect bolted. Sheran around the front of the garage and managed to intercept him near the dumpsters by the back door. She brought him to the ground easily, and within seconds she had the handcuffs on him.

"Really? Running never works out." She pulled him roughly to his feet just as Gideon got through the door.

He offered her an apologetic look, which she shrugged off.

* * *

They got him back to the station where, after a couple of hours of interrogation, they got a full confession.

"Great work everybody." Hotch congratulated them when they were leaving the station mid-afternoon, "I think we all deserve a night off, and we'll leave first thing tomorrow."

Everyone expressed their agreement before climbing in respective SUV's to head to the nearest bar.

"Can we make a detour?" Jessa asked Morgan, climbing behind the wheel.

"Sure, where do you want to be?"

"There's someone I need to see before I leave town." She drove to the address that Dean had given her and didn't have time to even knock on the door before it was pulled open.

"Jessamine, dear, so good to see you!"

"Uh, just Jessa. I'm not a huge fane of Jessamine."

"Nonsense, you just don't think it suits you."

Jessa looked at the woman, but decided that arguing wouldn't get her anywhere. "Anyway, Miss Mosely, I just wanted to thank you for helping my brothers."

"That's not all you came her for." Missouri told her matter-of-factly. "You want to know if I can tell you where your father is."

Jessa smiled at the psychic. "The boys have been looking for him for months. I need to know he's ok."

Missouri smiled broadly, "There is someone that wants to see you."

She led Jessa to a small office space where John sat on a chair in the corner.

At first she was shocked to see the man she ran away from, then relieved to know he was ok. It wasn't until he smiled and said, "How are you, Jemmy?" That she allowed herself to feel happy. It was the use of her childhood nickname that pushed her over the edge. When she was young, she couldn't pronounce her name and it always came out as 'Jemmy', Mary had adored it and the name stuck. No one had called her that since she was four years old.

"Dad!" Tears spilled from her eyes as he stood and she flung herself at him, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry." She sobbed over and over.

"It's ok." He stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She pulled back and wiped the tears from her face. "I can't believe you're here! The boys will be so relieved."

"Jessa." He put his hands over hers to calm her down, "Dean and Sam can't know I'm here."

"What? Why?" She looked at him shocked, "Dad, they've been looking for you for months!"

"They aren't ready yet." He explained, "They're doing so well, saving so many people. I'm closer than ever to finding the thing that killed your mom. I'll bring them in when I'm closer."

She didn't agree with him, but she knew enough to respect his decision. "I've missed you, Dad."

"Missed you, too, kiddo." He smiled, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I have to go now."

"Please don't." Tears filled her eyes, "Dad."

"I have to do this, Jessa."

"I love you." She hugged him again, fresh tears falling from her eyes.

"Your Mom would be so proud of you." He whispered. Then he held her at arm's length, "And I am so proud, too. I love you." He pressed one last kiss to her forehead then walked out the door.

Jessa straightened up and wiped her tears away before leaving the room to find Missouri. She found her in the main room. "Thank you."

"I'm always happy to help a friend. Now you take care."

"I will."

She had her hand on the door, about to walk out when Missouri spoke again, "And you tell that man out there how you feel."

Jessa offered her a smile before disappearing out the door.

* * *

 **A/N: So, I said Saturday but as it turns out i didn't get a free second all day, so I'm sorry that it's a day later than I promised.**

 **Also, the school names mentioned in this chapter are real.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this one :)**

 **Xoxo**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Ok, so here's another chapter. Just to avoid confusion: there's a paragraph in italics, that is a flashback.**

* * *

 _Tell that man how you feel._ Missouri's words bounced around in her head for weeks. Most of the time she was able to push them to the back of her mind, but other times – like now, they sat in the bullpen finishing off all their paper work, the rest of the team having long gone home—they were hard to ignore.

Derek's desk was right next to hers and his face was illuminated by nothing more than the small lamp on his desk.

"You right?" He asked with a slight chuckle.

"What?"

"You were staring."

"Oh. Sorry, I was a million miles away." She answered easily, "It's late and I'm going to head home."

"Yeah, I might as well." He stacked up the papers and stood, slipping his arms into his jacket, "I've been staring at those documents too long."

Jessa grabbed her helmet, gloves, and jacket from the drawer and followed him to the elevator. For the first little while, the only thing that cut through the silence was the slow rhythm of the classical tune playing through the elevator's speakers.

"Do you want to grab a drink?" Derek finally asked as the digital countdown neared the 'B' indicating they were at the carpark.

"Uh, I don't know. I shouldn't. It's late."

"It's too late to be at work, it isn't too late to go out for drinks." He grinned, "Come on, Bright Eyes, it'll be fun."

"Maybe another time." There was a ding, and the lift doors opened.

"Aw, come on, Jessa."

"No, I should get home." They reached Jessa's bike and she hung the helmet on the handlebars while she pulled on her gloves and jacket. "But you have fun."

"Nah, I might just head home, too."

"What? A second ago you were going out for drinks."

"Won't be as much fun alone." He smiled.

"If you're trying to guilt me into coming out, it's not going to work."

"Me? Never." He feigned hurt.

It just made Jessa chuckle. "Well, have fun, whatever you do." She mounted her Hawk and pulled the helmet over her head, and with a wave she left.

* * *

Jessa woke to the ringing of her cell phone. With a groan she reached across the bed to the nightstand to fetch it.

"Winchester." She answered sleepily, annoyance creeping into her voice.

"I need you in here as soon as possible." Hotch didn't bother with a greeting. His tone was urgent and it snapped Jessa awake.

"Yes, sir." She closed her phone and slipped from the bed, fishing some clothes from the closet.

"Who was that?" Jessa turned around when she finished buttoning the blouse up. Derek had himself propped up on his elbow, the sheet resting around his naked waist.

"Hotch." She answered, tugging her pants on. "I have to go."

"What, now? It isn't even seven yet!"

"Hotch wants me in there as soon as possible."

"Has he called anyone else?"

"No idea." Jessa found her shoes and slipped them on her feet before disappearing into the bathroom.

She emerged a few minutes later with her hair and makeup done.

"There's coffee in the kitchen, just lock up when you leave." She grabbed her keys from the dresser and left.

The ride to Quantico was quiet and gave Jessa enough time to think.

* * *

 _Jessa had just climbed out of the shower when there was a knock at the door. It was a little past midnight, so Jessa grabbed her gun. Securing the towel around herself, she went to the front door and pulled it open._

" _What are you doing here, Morgan?" She asked, suddenly very aware that all she was wearing was a small towel._

 _Morgan just shrugged and stared down at his feet._

 _Jessa visibly relaxed and set the gun down on the end table by the door. "Why are you here?" She asked again._

 _This time he looked her dead in the eye and took a step toward her. It only took a moment, and Jessa didn't have time to see it coming, but suddenly he was kissing her and Jessa wasn't stopping him. The voice in her head was screaming at her to stop, but she ignored it._

* * *

When she arrived at the FBI Building Jessa went straight to Hotch's office. He was sitting behind the desk waiting for her, wearing his usual stern expression.

"Winchester, sit down." He ordered.

"Is everything ok, sir?"

Hotch reached in to a file and pulled out a couple of images. One was of a skeleton and the other a high school aged boy. "I got a call from the sheriff in McAllister this morning. High school quarterback found dead in the woods."

"What about the other guy?"

"Also found this morning. Identical head wound."

Jessa looked at the images, but still didn't understand why Hotch had called only her in so early. "I'm sorry, Hotch, but why do you need me?"

"Because of this." He handed her another picture, this one was of a tree. Someone had drawn an upside down pentagram on it in red paint, along with the words 'SATAN LIVES LOD'. "What do you make of it?"

"Well, a star like that is usually associated with Satanism. The Church of Satan uses a variant of it as their symbol. But the bodies lack any indications of a ritualistic killing. And the Church of Satan doesn't actual worship Satan as a deity so sacrifices aren't required. Even Theistic Satanists don't sacrifice humans."

"What is your conclusion?"

"The Unsub may not be a Satanist, but that doesn't discount the possibility that he or she is killing in the name of the Devil, in which case they will kill again."

"Thank you." Hotch signalled for her to leave and she sat herself down at her desk to finish off last night's paperwork.

* * *

As soon as the rest of the team arrived, Hotch ordered them all into the briefing room.

"Do we have a case?" Reid asked JJ.

She shrugged, "If we have, I haven't seen it."

Jessa and Hotch were already waiting for them.

"What's going on?" Morgan asked.

"McAllister, Virginia." Hotch started, "Two bodies were found in the early hours of this morning."

Hotch laid out one of the pictures he showed Jessa earlier, "COD on both victims was blunt force trauma."

"Skeletons?" Reid asked, picking up the picture.

"One of them. The other was killed this morning."

"How do we know there's even a connection?" Gideon asked.

"They were found about seventy-five feet apart, with identical head wounds."

"Where's the rest of the file?" Morgan asked, picking up the too-thin folder in front of him.

"There isn't one. Sheriff is waiting for us at the crime scene. McAllister is half an hour by plane."

"What's the rush?" JJ found herself asking.

Jessa sensed her cue and answered, "Because of what else was found at the scene."

Hotch showed them the image of the tree.

"A Satanic Cult?" Gideon asked.

"Possibly." Jessa answered him.

* * *

"JJ, obviously we're going to need to keep this out of the press as long as possible." Hotch instructed on the plane.

"I'll do what I can." She answered.

"Why is it so important to keep it out of the press?" Morgan asked.

"There was a nationwide scare in the 1980s involving satanic ritual killings and abuse. The Satanic Panic, it was called. It began after the publication of a book about repressed memories being recovered through hypnotherapy. Memories of growing up with devil worshippers who use children in their rituals and ceremonies." Reid rattled off instantly.

"But most of the claims were later found to be false or impossible." Jessa added, giving Reid a sideways glance. She knew that after so many months of working with him she should be used to the random facts and statistics he spat out, but she was still amazed at the amount of things he could store in his head.

"Still, numerous therapists accepted the assertions as true and began searching for similar signs in their own patients. After one year, thousands of people reported the exact same "repressed memories"." Reid continued.

"The Bureau conducted an investigation and concluded that most of the most of the ritual killings or abuse were more urban legend than anything else." Hotch explained.

"So, what you're saying is there's no such thing as devil worship?" Morgan asked.

"Not at are different kinds of Satanism." Jessa explained, "The most common today is LaVeyan Satanism, which is atheistic. Then there's Theistic Satanism, or Traditional Satanism. Atheistic Satanists don't worship the devil, or even believe in his existence. In Hebrew, the word Satan means 'adversary', and is used as a symbol rebelling against the conservatism of mainstream religions. LaVeyan Satanists believe that each member is his or her own 'god' and there is no room for any other god." Jessa rambled, "Theistic Satanism differs from LaVeyan Satanism through the use of ceremonial 'magic' and the fact that they worship Satan as a deity. Even within those groups human sacrifice is rare.

Groups like the Order of Nine Angles in the UK promote human sacrifice, but believe the victim must 'self-select'.

Most 'Satanism' you see is just juveniles damaging property or desecrating churches or cemeteries." Jessa tried to hide the smile that was forming on her face – this was what she did, and she was so happy to have a chance to use her degree.

"To my knowledge there has never been a proven case of a satanic ritual killing in the United States." Gideon said.

"Maybe there is now." Morgan mused.

As soon as the conversation ended, Jessa made her way to the end of the plane to make her first coffee of the day. She downed the mug in almost as much time as it took her to fill it, then quickly made another one.

"I'm surprised you've lasted this long without a coffee." Morgan chuckled, walking up behind her.

"So am I, actually."

"Especially considering I heard you had a big night last night." He smirked.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jessa whirled on him, her expression serious. "Don't." She hissed, trying to speak low enough so the rest of the team wouldn't hear.

"Woah, I was only joking." He selected a mug and started pouring himself a coffee.

"Well don't." She set her mug down on the bench, "We work with profilers, Derek. How do you think that's going to go down?"

"Relax, Jessa. You're being paranoid. No one is going to find out."

"Because it's never going to happen again." When he looked at her she added, "Come on, you know as well as I do that last night never should have happened."

He shrugged, seemingly annoyed, "Alright."

Jessa grabbed her mug and slipped past Reid, who was beginning to make himself a mug, and returned to her seat.

* * *

When they arrived at the crime scene the sheriff approached them almost instantly.

"Mornin'. John Bridges." He held out his hand.

Hotch reached out and shook the man's hand, "We spoke on the phone. I'm Agent Hotchner, these are Agents Gideon, Morgan, Winchester, Jareau and Dr Reid."

"Thank you for comin' out so fast."

"Can you show us to the bodies?" Gideon asked the Sheriff.

"Of course. Adam's body is over there," He pointed to a spot a little ways away, "The skeleton was over here."

"Was there anything Satanic found with the other body?" Jessa asked.

"No, ma'am."

"Agent Winchester is our expert on these kinds of things." Hotch explained.

The Sheriff nodded and Jessa, Gideon, Reid and JJ followed him to the first victim, while Hotch and Morgan went with another officer to this morning's victim.

"One of my deputies found this one while searching for evidence." Sheriff Bridges explained. "We don't even know if it's a man or a woman."

"It's a man." Reid answered almost instantly. He was crouched down near the remains, "The male pelvis is more narrow and the opening at the bottom is heart shaped, as opposed to oval." He picked up a nearby stick and poked at a substance at the base of the tree. "Melted wax?"

"Candle wax?" JJ asked.

"Candles are used for all kinds of rituals and are heavily associated with magic, which is a core belief of Satanism." Jessa supplied.

"They're also used on birthday cakes." Gideon said, clearly sceptical.

"Actually, they were originally used to protect the birthday celebrant from demons for the coming year. As a matter of fact, down to the fourth century Christianity rejected the birthday celebration as a pagan ritual." Reid said standing up.

Bridges stared at him in disbelief, "What kind of doctor are you?"

"I've been asking myself the same question." Jessa laughed.

"Does LOD mean anything specific to you?" Gideon asked.

"Uh-uh." Reid answered, "I don't know of any significance in Satanism, either."

"Doesn't ring a bell for me, either." Jessa added.

"Well, I could have Garcia research this LOD thing if I could get a call out." JJ stated, fiddling with her phone.

"Not much chance of that out here." Bridges told her.

"Are there any cults in the area that you know about? Secret groups? People you see you don't know much about. People who stay to themselves mostly." Gideon asked Bridges, hoping to gain a little more insight into the case.

"This is a very religious area." Bridges said with a bit of pride, "Church on Sundays, fellowship on Wednesday, bible classes. If there was a secret group, I'd probably know about it."

"That's an inherent contradiction." Reid supplied in his usual manor.

"Excuse me?"

"He means if there was a group being secretive you probably wouldn't know." Gideon explained.

"Look, people out here just want a quiet place to raise their kids. What I know is none of them are capable of doing this."

The agents nodded and walked back towards Hotch and Morgan.

"Find anything interesting down there?" Hotch asked them.

"It looks like some kind of ritual site." Gideon answered.

"I can't find much to suggest that it isn't ritualistic." Jessa told her boss.

"Have either of you ever heard the expression 'lod', or the acronym LOD?" Reid asked, but both Hotch and Morgan shook their heads.

"Cherish! Cherish!" They were interrupted by a hysterical woman screaming out. She was rushing toward the scene, but an officer stopped her before she crossed the police tape. "Sheriff Bridges!" She called out.

"It's ok, Harris. Let her through." Bridges told the officer and all six of the agents moved closer to get a better understanding of what was going on.

"Was Adam Lloyd killed out here?" She demanded.

"Who told you that, Veronica?"

"Was he? My daughter was with him. They were out running together this morning. Oh god, I can't find her!" The last part came out as almost a sob, "Cherish is missing! Cherish is missing. Help me, please!"

Gideon gestured for an officer, "Take her home." He told him. When Veronica was out of earshot he turned back to the team, "We're looking for someone who can overpower our victim abduct a girl from a travelled path without being seen."

"It certainly fits with the cult theory." Reid informed them, "More than one unsub to control multiple victims."

Hotch added, "But if the attack were ferocious enough a single unsub could, too. Kill Adam and grab the girl while she's in shock."

"This is some rough country. No way a tourist could have come this far and not gotten lost." Jessa said.

"The unsub has to be from this area. You don't just stumble onto a place like this." Morgan added to the brainstorming.

"JJ, the sheriff is setting up a search party. Tell him I want him to use volunteers from the area. Locals." Gideon ordered.

"Do you want him to know why?"

Gideon just scoffed, "No, not yet."

"Do you think it's wise to alienate him?" Hotch asked.

"Well, he thinks we're looking for a monster. If we tell him we're looking for volunteers so we can profile who shows up he might call the whole thing off."

JJ nodded and disappeared to find the sheriff.

"Reid, Winchester, I want you two to go back to town with JJ and the Sheriff. Call Garcia and see if you can get anything on LOD." Hotch instructed.

* * *

Jessa and Reid nodded and walked off in the same direction as JJ just had. They found the Sheriff on the tail end of a very convincing argument from JJ.

"Sheriff." Jessa started when he was about to climb into his car. "You mind if we hitch a lift back to town? I want to call Quantico, see if we can find anything on this LOD."

"Sure, get in."

They arrived at the police station and there was a man standing waiting for them.

"What's happened, John?" He asked the Sheriff.

"Reverend Paul Burke, these are—," He turned to the agents, "Sorry, I forgot your names."

Jessa smiled and extended her hand to the Reverend, "Agent Winchester, this is Agent Jareau and Dr Reid."

"They're with the FBI." Bridges added.

"FBI? It's true then? Adam's dead?"

"Cherish Hanson's missing, too."

The reverend ran a hand through his hair, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Actually, yes." JJ told him, "We're gathering volunteers for a search party."

"Could you call the congregation?" Bridges finished.

"Of course, of course. I'll make a few calls."

"Thanks Reverend."

The Reverend offered JJ, Jessa and Reid a polite smile then walked off.

"It creeps me out when everyone is this nice and polite." Jessa whispered, causing JJ to chuckle.

"I think it's refreshing." Reid told his colleagues.

"It isn't natural."

They followed Bridges into the building where he led them to a group of desks. "Use any phone you want. Just dial 9 to get an outside line."

They nodded their thanks and the Sheriff disappeared into his office with JJ.

Jessa picked up the phone and dialled Garcia. She watched Reid pick up a football from a nearby stand. She almost laughed at how foreign the ball looked in his hand.

"What can Awesome do for you today?" Garcia answered.

"Hey, Garcia, it's Winchester."

"What do you need, my love?"

"Anything you've got on 'lod' or 'LOD'."

"I will do my thing and hit you back."

"Thank you."

She hung up the phone just as Reid was discussing something with a football player. She didn't get the whole conversation, but from what she heard he was interested in profiling and he was Sheriff Bridges son.

The boy seemed to freak out when he found out that Cherish Hanson was missing, something Jessa made a mental note to address later.

* * *

The team was sitting around the desk, finalising the profile before they delivered it to the locals. Morgan's phone rang and Jessa found her gaze following him as he walked from the room.

"You know, I don't think Hotch will mind." JJ stated, quiet enough so only Jessa would hear.

Jessa turned to look at her friend, "What?"

"You and Morgan. I don't think Hotch will mind."

Jessa gaze shifted from the other blonde to Hotch, who was deep in conversation with Reid. "I don't know what you're talking about, JJ."

"Oh, please." JJ laughed. "Do you forget that you work with profilers?"

Jessa sighed and looked down at her hands, before looking back to JJ, "We dated for a few months, back when I first moved, but we broke it off when I went back to Nebraska."

"Jessa, a blind person could see that you still have feelings for him, and I would bet my life he feels the same way."

"I don't have feelings for him, JJ." Jessa tried to convince her. "And even 'dating' is a strong word. It was nothing like that."

"Uh-huh." She could tell that JJ didn't believe her, and she was about to try again, but Hotch told them it was time to deliver their profile.

They assembled the officers and Hotch began telling them what they needed to know. Each member of the team took turns informing them of different parts.

As predicted, Sheriff Bridges refused to believe that their unsub could be a local.

"The woods are too thick and confusing for a visitor to get around in." Jessa told him.

"I would know if someone was capable of doing—"

"Dad." It was his son, Cory. Jessa hadn't even realised he was there. "I know someone like that."

"What do you know?" Morgan asked him.

"His name's Mike Zizzo. HE graduated about five years ago, he's in his twenties but still hands around high school kids." Cory explained. "He's got a group of them. They follow him everywhere. They all get high and listen to heavy metal.

He calls them Lords of Destruction."

"LOD." Reid said from the chair he sat in.

"How do you know all this?" Bridges asked, but when Cory refused to make eye contact he added, "Its ok, son."

"I've been there, where they hang out drinking beers. He talks about Satan all the time. Says he's the one true god."

"Where is this place?" Gideon asked.

"On the other side of the mountain. The old Jenson house."

"That's out of my jurisdiction." Bridges told them.

"Not ours." Hotch answered, motioning for the team to leave.

* * *

When they arrived at the Jenson house they filed out of the cars, all drawing their weapons. The occupants of the house seemed completely unaware of the presence of law enforcement until the BAU, minus Gideon who had cryptically told them he wasn't coming on the raid, burst through the doors.

"FBI! Don't move!" Jessa shouted, finding that only a few people heard over the loud music. "Up against the wall, now!" She could hear the other officers shouting the same thing and before long they had the music off and the party-goers under control. After a couple more moments, Morgan walked the man she could only assume was Zizzo to the cars.

"Winchester." Hotch called her over, "I want you to go back and help me and the Sheriff interrogate Zizzo."

"Yes, sir." She followed Morgan and the suspect out the door.

When they arrived back at the station, they led Zizzo straight to the interrogation room.

Everyone in the room was silent for a few moments.

"Is someone going to tell me why I'm here, or are we just going to play staring games all night?" Zizzo asked with a confident smirk on his face.

Hotch pulled the note they found in the woods out. "This was found where Cherish Hanson went missing."

"No wonder everyone's all freaked out. McAllister's perfect debutante is in trouble."

"Read the note." Jessa spat.

Zizzo reached out and took the note, reading it over. When he was finished he put it on the table and laughed.

"You think someone threatening to kill this girl is funny?" Hotch asked him accusingly.

"I think someone calling Cherish Hanson a virgin is funny." He corrected with a smirk.

"You a Satanist, Mike?" Bridges asked him.

"Sure."

"And you worship the Devil?"

"You know what Satanism is?"

Jessa smiled and sat herself down in the seat opposite him, "Tell us."

"The word Satan comes from ancient Hebrew. It just means opposer. Satan opposes the hypocritical morals and dogmas of the so-called Holy Church and its followers. If you grew up in this town with God shoved down your throat every day you'd oppose it, too. It's all hypocrisy. Do this. Don't do that. And all the time, the adults are the ones screwing up. So basically we're just atheists. Aggressively atheist."

Jessa took the photos and set them down in front of him, "How aggressive, Mike?"

"What the hell is this?" He asked, genuine surprise on his face.

"Why don't you tell us, Mike." Hoch pressed.

"I've never seen this before."

"Pentagram, body, candles, LOD." Jessa pointed to each component as she spoke.

"Lords of Destruction." Bridges added.

"I've never seen this!" Zizzo said, his tone was pleading with them to believe him.

"From where I stand, Mike, it looks like you signed it." Hotch told him.

Jessa looked at Zizzo, then Hotch, then stood and walked out of the room.

"What are you thinking?" Hotch asked, having followed her.

"He didn't do this."

"What do you think about it?"

"He definitely thinks he's a Satanist, but his surprise was genuine. He didn't know about the bodies." She paused for a moment, "We should talk to Cory again. I feel like he knows more than he's letting on."

Hotch nodded and walked to the Sheriff's office and stuck his head in. "He isn't here."

"Try the conference room?"

Hotch nodded and checked there but came back shaking his head. "He isn't there either."

Jessa walked back inside the interrogation room, "Sheriff, can we have a word?"

Bridges nodded and followed her out of the room.

"What's this about?"

"Sheriff, we're looking for your son." Hotch informed him.

"Cory? Why do you need him?"

"We think he knows something else." Jessa explained.

"He should be in my office."

Hotch shook his head, "We've checked, he's not at the station."

"He's probably just headed home." Bridges stated, picking up the phone from a nearby desk and dialling a number. He waited for a few moments before hanging up. "He's not answering."

"Does he have a cell you could try?" Jessa asked but Bridges shook his head.

"Ain't much point out here."

Jessa gave Hotch a look then the pair walked away to where the sheriff wouldn't be able to hear them, "Something doesn't feel right."

"I agree." Hotch said.

"We said the unsub would insert himself into the investigation, and who has been more involved than anyone?"

He nodded, knowing exactly where she was going with it, "Cory Bridges. I'll call Morgan, he's probably going to head out there."

Hotch walked away to make a call away from the ears of the Sheriff. He returned moments later and shook his head.

Jessa was about to suggest they head out there when Gideon entered and waved them over to him and Bridges.

"I've just been with Brandy Dreifort. Do you know her?" He asked the Sheriff.

He nodded, "She's a friend of my son's."

"She's a friend of Cherish's, too."

"And?"

"Well, they all knew about the skeleton."

"Who did?" Bridges asked, clearly shocked.

"Football team, cheerleaders, everyone. They all watched this man decompose like it was a game for their amusement."

"What?" Jessa was stunned. She had seen and heard some pretty messed up things over the years but this was on a different level.

"As far as I can tell, the only kids who didn't know were Mike Zizzo and the LOD."

"It's ridiculous." Bridges declared.

"Sounds impossible, it's unbelievable." Gideon said, "But she told me. This guy was a hiker or something. Probably have him listed, a missing person somewhere."

"Jason, how do you know the LOD wasn't involved?"

"Well, she said the pentagram and the candles, they weren't there a few months ago."

"Which means?" Bridges prompted.

"Someone wants us to believe there are Satanists here." Gideon told them, then after a moments silence added, "The unsub likes to inject himself into the investigation, Sheriff. That's what this killer does. Who gave us Zizzo? Who knew all about him?"

"Are you talking about Cory?"

"It was convenient, isn't it?" Jessa asked rhetorically, "Lucky we had a kid right in the room who could tell us where the L.O.D. was. A group of fringe kids nobody in the town would like. But you called us here to advise you. My advice would be to get in front of this before your son hurts himself or anybody else."

"I don't even know where he is." Bridges sighed, resigned.

"We do." Hotch said.

"Hey, Sheriff." One of the deputy's approached them, "Did you open the gun locker?"

"No."

"Someone did. There's a revolver missing."

"Cory." Jessa and Hotch said at the same time, taking off running toward the parking lot where the SUV's were parked.

* * *

The sirens blared as Hotch steered the car down the streets to where they wanted to go. She couldn't help the sick feeling that settled over her when she realised that Morgan and Reid were in danger.

When they got to the house, what felt like hours later, Morgan and Reid were nowhere to be seen.

Jessa opened her mouth to ask the question when she saw Morgan leading a handcuffed Cory Bridges toward them.

"Are you alright?" Hotch asked before she could.

"I'm fine." Morgan answered, "Might want to check on Reid."

Jessa and Hotch took off running in the direction Morgan came from and found Reid picking himself up from the ground.

"What happened to you?" Jessa asked him.

"Morgan tackled me." He answered, bitterness finding its way into his voice.

"Why did he do that?" Hotch asked.

"Cory had a gun to my head."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but we're going to need to get crime scene people out here."

Both of the agents nodded, understanding what he was saying: Cherish Hanson was dead.

"Come on." Jessa said, turning back toward the house, "Let's get back to town."

* * *

Jessa lay on this small couch at the end of the plane, her earphones in with Led Zeppelin lulling her to sleep. Her eyes shot open when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Jeez, Morgan." She pulled the earphones from her ears and sat up, "You scared me."

"I was talking, but I guess you couldn't hear me."

She chuckled, "I guess I couldn't."

"What are you listening to?"

"Travelling Riverside Blues."

Morgan shrugged, "I don't know it."

"What?" Jessa was gobsmacked, "You're missing out. It's my favourite." She put one earbud back in and handed the other to Morgan, who was now sitting down next to her.

Jessa swung her legs up on to the seat and leaned her back against Morgan, who had done the same.

"I'm glad you're ok." She told him after the song had ended.

"What?"

"When we realised what happened, I thought he was going to kill you."

"You can't get rid of me that easy, Bright Eyes."

Jessa could hear the smile in his voice, and one spread across her own face. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"What I said this morning." She said quietly. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh."

"It's alright, Jessamine." Jessa felt a fluttering in her chest. She normally hated the sound of her full name, but coming from Derek's lips it felt right. "I understand."

* * *

 **A/N: So this was so much fun to write, and the longest chapter I've ever written. I found it so interesting to research and e** **verything I have on Satanism comes from me googling, so if I have anything wrong please feel free to correct me.**

 **If someone was to check my internet search history, there would be like a hundred sites on Satanism and would probably be concerned about me... Oh well. Please enjoy this chapter.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Ok, i've so got to get writing more. I'm catching up faster than I would like. Anyway, here's a little sibling bonding for you.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

It was almost midnight, and Jessa was on the lounge in her favourite flannel with a packet of salted chips watching a terrible, and quite inaccurate, supernatural horror flick. She laughed at it as the protagonist let out a fake scream as the 'vampire' opened its mouth to reveal two obviously-fake fangs, as another character plunged a wooden stake into its back, causing it to disintegrate.

"Do people really believe this shit?" She asked out loud, flicking it to a different channel but finding only infomercials, so she returned it to the terrible horror movie. Apparently in the two minutes Jessa wasn't watching, two of the protagonist's friends had been killed, and now the remaining two characters were battling with a 'werewolf' that looked suspiciously like an Irish Wolfhound.

She was just about to give up on it and go to bed when she heard the sound of her lock being picked. Instinct taking over, she leapt from the couch and grabbed her gun from the kitchen counter. She planted her feet and trained the gun on the door as it creaked open. The only light was coming from the TV, and now the characters were in a graveyard so that light was dim. She couldn't quite make out the figures that were sneaking through the door, but she watched their silhouettes stiffen when she clicked the safety off.

One of the figures reached the light switch by the door, and the room lit up to reveal her brothers.

"Are you serious?" She lowered the gun. "What the hell are you two doing sneaking in? I could have shot you!"

"In all fairness, we figured you'd be asleep or away on a case." Sam tried to reason.

"Yeah, well call next time. Jeez."

"What are you even watching?" Dean criticised. "Do they realise how inaccurate it is?"

"I don't think movie produces care about the proper way to kill a vampire." Jessa told him.

Dean swung his legs over the back of the lounge and propped himself up against the cushions, sticking his hand into the bag of chips, "How'd they do it?" He asked with a mouthful.

"How do you think? Wooden stake."

"Seriously? What'd the Vamp do?"

"Turn to dust."

"Seriously? Amateurs." He laughed.

Sam sat down on the armchair and grabbed the chips from Dean, shoving a handful into his mouth.

"What are you guys doing here, anyway?" She asked.

"What? Can't we swing by to see our favourite sister?" Dean asked, trying his best to look offended.

"I'm your only sister."

"All the more reason to come round." When Jessa fixed him with the don't-give-me-any-shit look that she had perfected over the years he just shrugged and added, "We finished up a case nearby."

"Do you forget that we're twins, Dean? I know when you're lying."

"Dean was dying, I guess he got sentimental." Sam informed her, shooting her a soft look.

"What?"

"Nice one, dude."

"What do you mean you _were_ dying?" She sat on the other end of the couch.

"It doesn't matter." Dean snapped, giving Sam a shut-the-hell-up-or-else look. "We dealt with it."

"How the hell do you deal with dying?"

"It doesn't matter!" Dean roared.

Jessa wanted to press, but she decided it was best not to. She would ask Sam about it later.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Jessa letting the news sink in. After a while she gave into her tiredness. "I'm going to bed." She told the boys, "Will you two still be here in the morning?"

"Possibly." Dean answered without looking away from the TV.

"Yes." Sam clarified, actually looking at her.

Jessa nodded and shut herself in her bedroom. It wasn't until she was on the verge of sleep that she realised she didn't have a place for the boys to sleep. Oh well.

* * *

When her alarm rudely pulled her from her dream state, Jessa climbed out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. Her brothers were asleep in the same positions they were in last night, the TV still playing softly. With a chuckle, she flicked it off and resumed her morning ritual that consisted of coffee, shower, more coffee, getting ready for work then another coffee if she had time. Occasionally she would get a lift with Morgan, or catch a cab. On those days she would allow herself a fourth coffee for the trip.

Dean woke up when she was pouring her second cup of coffee.

"Morning." He said, way to cheerful for first thing in the morning.

"Morning." Jessa echoed a little more sleepily. "Why are you so chipper?"

He shrugged, "Why not?"

"Hm." Jessa slid her mug to him and grabbed another one for herself.

"You working today?"

"Uh-huh."

"Will you be home?"

"Don't know. We haven't had a case in a little over two weeks, but I never know."

"What about you guys? Are you hanging around?"

"Don't know. I've been hearing of things happening in Pennsylvania, so we might head up there in the next couple days."

"Is that coffee?" Sam mumbled, alerting both siblings to his presence. The large man was rubbing the back of his neck. "God, I don't think sleeping on the armchair was good for my neck."

Jessa laughed and handed him a mug of steaming coffee, "I could have told you that. You might want to check into a motel if you plan on staying. I would offer you a bed, but I don't have any."

Sam shrugged and gulped down half of his coffee.

"Right." Jessa declared after a short silence, "I have to get ready for work."

She disappeared into her bedroom and when she came out she was dressed in her sensible fed clothes, just finishing the braid in her long hair.

"I will never get used to seeing you like that." Dean said.

"Like what?"

"Like responsible and stuff."

"What? You guys wear suits for cases."

He opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again.

"Anyway." Jessa grabbed her leather jacket and pulled it on, "I have to go. Lock up if you leave, there's a spare key in the pot plant by the door."

The boys nodded and she zipped up her jacket to her chin and slipped her hands into her gloves before grabbing her helmet, badge, and gun.

"See you later." She smiled and slipped out the door.

Jessa arrived at Quantico at the same time JJ was climbing from her car.

"Good morning." Jessa offered. It was unusual the she saw JJ before briefings, as the Media Liaison always arrived early and left late.

"Morning Jessa." She smiled, but her tone wasn't as bright as it usually was.

"What's up?"

JJ shook her head, "We've got a case." She handed over the file that she had. "Two murders in 48 hours."

Jessa flicked through the information she had, "Different M.O's. Why have they called us?"

"Harringtonville, Tennessee, population five thousand. Last homicide was sixty-four years ago."

"Great, this is another one of those 'everyone is cheerful and helpful' towns isn't it." Jessa sighed as they reached the elevator.

"God, I hope not." JJ agreed.

Jessa closed the file and handed it back to her friend. "How long do you reckon we'll be gone?"

"Not a clue. Couple days at least."

Jessa smiled and pulled out her phone and dialled Dean. He answered almost instantly.

"What? You don't trust us here alone?" He asked, mock hurt in his voice.

"Not really." She jabbed back, "But I was calling to tell you that I'm not coming home tonight. Probably won't be for a few days."

"Alright, well we might head to Pennsylvania, then. No point in us hanging around if you're not here."

"Take care."

"You know me, J." He laughed and hung up.

"Someone stay over last night?" JJ asked with a smirk as the lift arrived at their floor.

"My brothers." She answered, shutting down JJ's thoughts.

"Boring." They walked through the bullpen, "Briefing." JJ ordered Morgan and Reid, who were already at their desks.

Jessa stopped at her desk and put her helmet and jacket in the drawer, before following the others into the briefing room.

* * *

The case ended up being worse than Jessa ever thought. A third victim turned up, and a seven-year-old boy was abducted, and to make matters worse, the killer was eating the organs he took from his victims. It made Jessa sick to think that their killer was actually human.

Jessa used the time on the plane to check in with Sam and Dean. It turns out that an ex had called Dean, and they ended up going to Cape Girardeau, Missouri, and Sam informed her they would be back in another couple of days.

"Everything alright?" JJ asked as Jessa hung up the phone, taking a seat next to her.

"Yeah. My brothers have skipped town, is all."

"What? They couldn't wait a couple of days?"

"Dean got a call from an ex."

"Ah." JJ smiled, understanding. "How long since you've seen them?"

"A few weeks. They were in Kansas when we were." She told her friend, "Before that, five months and before that, nine years."

"Why so long? I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

Jessa shrugged, she trusted JJ. "I ran away when I was seventeen. Ended up in a dodgy bar in Nebraska. That was home until I joined the Bureau."

JJ nodded, vaguely remembering the case from two years previous. "Why did you run away?"

Again, she shrugged, "I guess I just got fed up. I don't know if it was the moving around or the fact that in my dad's eyes I could never live up to Dean. I just left one night. Packed my things and walked out the door. A couple of months later I found myself in Nebraska." She paused before adding, "The Roadhouse felt like home."

JJ didn't answer, the two agents just sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I don't think I've told anyone that before."

JJ gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, but didn't speak.

* * *

They got home not long after that, and the team left slowly, none of them looking forward to the mountain of paperwork that waited for them.

"Ugh, I have like fifteen folders on my desk." Jessa complained, walking through the bullpen.

"Fifteen?" Reid asked, "I have twenty-four!"

"I wonder how they got there." Jessa smirked, sitting down at her desk.

"Did you—?"

"Yup."

Reid scowled, but made no attempt to slip the extra files back to Jessa's desk.

A few hours later she finished her pile and flicked off her office light, realising for the first time that she was the only one still in the bullpen. A faint glow emanated from between the slats of the blinds on Hotch's window. She grabbed her things and headed for the elevator. The pushed her earbuds in as she waited for the elevator and switched Eye of the Tiger to full volume. She reached the parking lot and began the walk to her bike. A few steps from the elevator she began to feel uneasy and suddenly cursed herself for parking so far away. This late at night, there were only a few cars in the lot, not enough for her to feel secure.

When she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up she pulled her earphones from her ears and reached down and unclipped her gun from its holster. She quickened her pace as the feeling of being followed became more intense. She heard footsteps behind her and, in one fluid movement, dropped her helmet and grabbed her gun spinning and aiming it at the parking lot and firing three rounds into the empty space.

Letting out a slow breath, Jessa lowered her gun just as a figure stepped out from behind a car.

"That isn't going to do a whole lot, sweetheart." His eyes flashed black and Jessa fired four more rounds. "Ouch."

"Who are you?" She didn't lower her gun, even though she knew it was useless.

He shrugged, "Call me what you want, it doesn't matter." He took a few steps toward her, "Where's your father, Winchester?"

"How do you know who I am?"

The man laughed, "Please, we've been following the Winchester's for years."

"Who is 'we'?"

The man took a few more steps forward and Jessa fired another bullet at him. "Ok, stop shooting, you're wasting your bullets."

"Answer my question, Demon." She spat.

Again, the demon laughed. "I don't answer to you, Hunter." He spat with just as much venom.

"Then who do you answer to?"

In one long stride he was directly in front of her, his hand reached out to snake around her neck before she had time to react.

"Where is John Winchester?"

Jessa struggled to breathe as the demon lifted her feet from the ground. She could feel her lungs burning from lack of oxygen as she clawed at his hands, in a vain attempt to get him to drop her.

"I will ask one more time, where is John Winchester?"

"Right here." Three gunshots rang out and Jessa fell to her knees, gasping for breath.

It took her a few moments to get her breath back and when she did she saw the demon rounding on her father. She scrambled for her gun and aimed it at the back of the demon, firing it once in an attempt to distract it.

He didn't turn around, just raised his hand and her gun went flying. With a small chuckle, he raised his other hand in John's direction and the older hunter went flying into the wall with a thud. The demon squeezed his outstretched hand into a fist and John started choking for air.

Jessa felt paralysed with fear, watching the life get squeezed from her father. She wracked her brain trying to think of something—anything—to help.

" _Regna terrae, cantate Deo,_ " She started, reaching for the only exorcism she could remember off the top of her head. " _psallite Domino_ _qui fertis super caelum_ _caeli ad Orientem_ _Ecce dabit voci Suae_ _vocem virtutis,_ _tribuite virtutem Deo."_

The demon whirled on her and pinned her to the pillar behind her effortlessly.

 _"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus—"_ She choked, gasping for air _. "spiritus_ _omnis satanica—"_ She managed to breathe out as spots blurred her vision.

"p _otestas, omnis incursion_ _infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,_ _omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."_ Jessa heard John's voice across the parking lot, " _Ergo draco maledicte_ _et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te."_ Jessa felt the pressure from her neck loosen and she was able to suck in a few breaths before she heard two shots ring out, and she fell to the ground.

Jessa pulled herself to her feet and she saw Hotch emerging from the elevator, his gun raised at the demon.

" _cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare._ _Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei,_ _contremisce et effuge, invocato a_ _nobis sancto et terribili nomine,_ _quem inferi tremunt."_ It came out in a rush as the demon approached Hotch and threw him across the lot. _"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine._ _Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias_ _libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos. Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris,_ _te rogamus, audi nos."_ Jessa screamed, staring at the too-still body of her boss. _"Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae te rogamus, audi nos._ _Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo._ _Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem_ _et fortitudinem plebi Suae._ _Benedictus Deus. Gloria Patri."_ She finished and the demon roared as the black smoke poured from his mouth and the body it was possessing crumpled to the ground.

"Dad!" Jessa rushed to his side and helped him to his feet.

"You alright?" He asked, leaning heavily on her for support.

"I will be."

"And him?" He nodded toward where Hotch's lifeless form lay crumpled against a dented car.

"Can you stand?"

"Yeah."

Jessa ran toward her boss, checking for a pulse. It took her a moment, but she found it. "Oh, thank god!"

"He ok?" John limped toward them.

"He's unconscious, but alive." She told him, relieved. "Dad, I have to call an ambulance. There'll be cops and feds here soon."

John nodded, understanding, "I'll see you, Jessa." He turned and half ran, half limped away.

When he was completely out of sight, Jessa pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled 911.

Jessa waited seven minutes for the ambulance to arrive, during that time Hotch remained unconscious. FBI Police arrived at the same time as the ambulance.

"Agent Winchester, I need to get a statement from you." One of the officers told her.

"I'm going to the hospital." She answered, with no room for argument. "You can get my statement there."

"Of course, but I need to take your weapon." He said, but was met with an incredulous look. "Until you are cleared of any wrong doing."

She rolled her eyes, but handed over her gun then she turned and walked toward the ambulance that Hotch was being loaded into.

"We need to contact his next of kin." One of the paramedics said.

"I'll call his wife." Jessa said, "Do you have his personal effects?"

A second paramedic handed her a bag with his things and she fished out his phone. Flipping it open, she hit speed dial one and waited for an answer.

"Aaron?" Haley answered sleepily, "You said you'd be home by now."

"Haley, its Jessa Winchester."

"What's going on?" The other woman was suddenly alert.

"Something happened. Hotch got hurt, I'm going with him to the hospital now."

"What happened?"

"He's going to be ok, Haley. Can you meet us at the hospital?"

"Yes!" Jessa hung up the phone and climbed into the ambulance.

* * *

Jessa was sitting in the chair by Hotch's bed when he regained consciousness.

"What happened?" He asked, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the light in the room.

"Hey, Hotch!" Jessa turned her attention to her injured boss. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts." He offered a tight smile.

"What do you remember about what happened?" She asked, praying that she could explain away what happened.

"I came out of the elevator, and there was someone there." A frown formed on his face as he struggled to remember. "I fired my gun."

Jessa nodded, prompting him further.

"I don't remember anything else."

"He was attacking me, strangling me. You fired at him and he attacked you, knocked you out. You saved my life."

"There was someone else there." He said, his brow furrowing as he concentrated on the memory.

"There was no one else there, Hotch." She told him with as much conviction as she could muster, "I didn't see anyone else."

If Hotch was going to reply, he was cut off by his wife rushing through the door with baby Jack in her arms.

"Aaron!" She exclaimed, rushing to his side.

Jessa stood from the chair and quickly left the room, wanting to give the couple privacy. Almost as soon as she walked through the door, she bumped into the officer from earlier.

"Agent Winchester." He smiled, "Just the person I wanted to see."

She smiled politely.

"How's Agent Hotchner?"

"Just a bit of bruising and concussion. They're keeping him overnight for observation, but otherwise he's fine."

"Good to hear. I'm going to need that statement, though."

Jessa nodded, knowing that it was coming, "What do you want to know?"

"What happened? Start from when you got off the elevator."

"Okay. Well, I got off the elevator and was walking to my bike when I felt someone watching me. When I turned around I saw a man approaching me. He was coming toward me, and I fired my weapon."

"How many times?"

"Sorry?"

"How many times did you fire your gun?"

"Uh, a few."

"Be specific, Agent Winchester."

"Okay, I fired three times."

"And?"

"As a warning. They weren't aimed at him."

"And then what?"

"Then he attacked me, choked me. That's when Hotch came. He fired a couple of times but the guy got to him. Threw him into the wall, knocked him out. I grabbed my gun and pulled the trigger until he fell to the ground."

"How many times did you shoot?"

"Five, I think."

The officer made a few more notes. "Are you saying that you fired a total of eight times, and Agent Hotchner fired twice?"

"Yes."

"That means there are three bullets unaccounted for. Do you remember anyone else being at the scene?"

Damn, she had all but forgotten about the bullets her dad fired. "I don't recall."

"Are you saying that someone shot at the victim three times and you don't remember?"

"Look, the 'victim'," She spat the word sourly, "Was strangling me. I was on the brink of unconsciousness and if there were gunshots, I didn't notice."

"Ok, thank you for your time, Agent Winchester."

He turned to walk away but stopped when Jessa spoke, "When can I have my gun back?"

"When you've been cleared."

"And when will that be?"

"After I've spoken to Agent Hotchner to confirm your story."

He walked off without another word.

* * *

 **A/N: Ok, so I thought i would mention that the exorcism I've used in this chapter was the one recited in Devil's Trap. I know there's heaps of different ones used over the course of the series, shorter ones even, but this was my favourite.**

 **Also, the timelines. I've been more or less matching the timelines of the two shows episode for episode, even though the Criminal Minds timeline is vastly different to the Supernatural one. It just makes things a little easier for me this way.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Xoxo**


	12. Chapter 12

Jessa plugged her iPod as she climbed off her Hawk and turned the volume to full. She wanted to avoid any unwanted questions about the dark bruise that formed on her neck overnight.

She got to her desk and stuck into her paperwork. It was a while later that an earbud was tugged from her ear, cutting off Highway to Hell midway through.

"Hey." She exclaimed, turning to face whoever ruined the great song. "What do you want?" She asked a little harsher than she intended.

"Woah, I was just going to ask if you'd seen Hotch today." Morgan asked, his smirk fading.

Jessa sighed and pulled out the other earbud, switching her music off, "What makes you think I know where he is?"

He held his hands up in a surrender gesture, "Just asking. He's late."

"He usually beats me in." JJ explained from where she sat on Morgan's desk, "And if he doesn't, he's never any later than eight."

Reid just stared at her expectantly from his own desk.

Jessa was saved from any more questions when her name was called from behind.

She swivelled her chair to see Strauss, the Section Chief. Her perfectly combed blonde hair and perfectly pressed suit gave off an air of importance, and her stiff posture did nothing to countermand it. "A word."

"Yes, ma'am." Jessa stood and followed her away from the bullpen and to her office.

The office was spacious with large windows letting in a glorious amount of sunlight. Strauss marched purposefully to the large wooden desk and sat behind it, gesturing for Jessa to take the seat opposite.

Strauss clasped her hands on the desk in front of her and stared straight at Jessa with icy grey eyes. "How are you feeling?" Her soft, concerned tone was not what Jessa was expecting given the harshness that her face portrayed.

"I'm fine, thank you, ma'am."

"Good news." She smiled warmly, "Agent Hotchner was discharged this morning, and he'll be returning tomorrow."

Jessa nodded, she still wasn't sure why she there.

"I've been keeping a close eye on you, Agent Winchester. You're good at your job."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Of course, I must admit, I was a little shocked when your name came across my desk as the BAU's latest hire."

"Ma'am?"

"Your father was a friend." She explained, "He served under my ex-husband in the Marines."

"Oh, I didn't realise."

Strauss smiled, "It was a long time ago, dear." She stood from her desk and walked over to the large window and leaned against it, "I haven't seen John for many years. The last time I saw to him was more than twenty years ago. Just after your mother died, actually. The four of you came to stay with me and Frank."

Jessa just stared at the woman. She may have been their boss, but she very rarely made an appearance and yet here she was reminiscing like they were good friends.

"I've spoken to him quite a few times since then. Only when he needs something from me, of course." She chuckled lightly, "Sometimes he says the darndest things, one could argue that he was crazy."

"But not you?" Jessa frowned. Strauss' tone suggested that she was trying to tell her something without saying it.

"No, not me." She smiled as she recalled a memory, "He saved my life that week—the week you all stayed. I never would have believed him if I hadn't seen it myself."

"Seen what, ma'am?"

"That isn't the point, Jessamine." Her gaze turned serious again, "It was him, wasn't it?"

"I'm sorry?" She tried her best not to correct the woman that signed her pay checks and tell her not to call her Jessamine.

"Last night." She walked back to the desk and pushed a file in front of Jessa, "I read the report. There's three bullets unaccounted for—there was someone else there. It was John, wasn't it?"

Jessa nodded hesitantly.

"Thought so. He always did everything he could to protect you kids." Strauss took the report. "Don't worry about this, it'll be like he was never there."

"Thank you, ma'am."

The motherly expression was back, "I've been doing this for John for years."

Jessa sensed the end of the conversation and stood to go. She had her hand on the doorknob when Strauss spoke again.

"Oh, and Jessamine?"

"Yes?"

She opened a drawer and pulled out Jessa's gun, "You'll be needing this."

"Thank you." She strapped the gun to her holster and left the room.

When she got back to the bullpen she noticed her teammates in the same positions they were in when she left, with the addition of Gideon. Judging by the way they abruptly stopped talking when she approached, they were being briefed about last night's events.

"Don't stop on my account." She said, sitting down at her desk.

"Are you ok?" JJ asked, her expression soft and concerned.

"Fine."

"It's ok not to be." Morgan said, "I mean, you shot someone last night. That's gotta weigh on you."

"I'm fine, I mean it." She said trying—and failing—to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "I've been cleared."

"That's… good news." Gideon phrased it more of a question, but Jessa pretended it wasn't.

"What'd Strauss want?" Reid asked curiously, "She didn't look happy."

"I think that's just her face." JJ said with a small laugh.

The comment made Jessa smile and relax a little, "She just wanted to give me my gun back."

"Great, so now you can work like the rest of us." Morgan joked.

"Speaking of, I better get back to it. Hotch won't like it if we all slacked off when he wasn't here." JJ laughed, getting up and walking back towards her office.

"I've also got a lot to do." Gideon declared before walking away.

Jessa returned to her work, feeling a lot lighter than she did when she first got there.

* * *

"Winchester." Her head snapped up when she heard her name. She looked around to find JJ standing by her desk. "Did you want lunch? I'm heading to the deli down the street."

"That would be amazing, JJ, thank you."

The other Agent just smiled and walked toward the elevator.

Jessa put her head back down to work, but was interrupted a moment later by her phone buzzing in her pocket.

"Winchester." She answered without pausing to glance at the caller ID.

"Jessa, its Sam."

"Hey, how goes the case?"

"Finished it last night."

"So you're on your way back?"

"Sure are."

"Great!"

"Great? A little enthusiastic, Jessa."

She shrugged before she realised that her little brother couldn't see her, "A lot's happened since you left."

"Like?"

"I'll explain when you get back." She told him.

"Yeah, we're only a couple of hours out. Should beat you back."

"You know where the key is, right?"

"Yep."

There was a short silence before Jessa asked, "Hey, what was she like?"

"Who?"

"The ex. The one that called."

Sam chuckled, "She's nice. Way out of Dean's league."

That made Jessa laugh, "Yeah?"

"Totally."

"Alright, I gotta get back to work."

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you later."

"Yep." She hung up.

* * *

When Jessa got home the Impala was sitting in the drive. She pulled the Hawk to a stop beside it and walked into her house to find Dean glowering at her, the trunk of photos she had gotten from their old house in Kansas lay open on the couch.

She cast a quick glance at Sam, who was sitting stoic on the arm chair.

Dean's expression turned from anger to concern when he took in the sight of the ugly bruise on her neck, "J, what happened?" He asked in his all too familiar 'big brother' tone. He always took on the big brother role, despite the fact that he was almost twelve minutes younger than her.

"I'm fine, just a demon." She told them, tossing her keys and phone on the counter and shrugging off her jacket.

"Just?" Sam said, "Jessa, are you ok?"

"It was nothing I couldn't handle."

"You exorcised it?" Dean asked, shock seeping into his tone.

"I wasn't about to let him get away." She said, trying to make him feel stupid for even asking the question. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know, I just figured that you aren't a hunter anymore."

"Dean, this isn't the kind of life you walk away from." She told him, "I may be doing other things, but I'll always be a hunter whether I want to be or not."

There was an uncomfortable silence, which Jessa used to kick her shoes off and lock her gun away.

"When were you going to tell us about this?" The hurt in Sam's voice caught her a little off guard.

"I don't know." She answered honestly, "I went to the old house, while I was in Lawrence."

"Why?" Dean's voice echoed Sam's hurt.

"We were canvassing, and I ended up there. The woman that lives there recognised my name from the back of one of the photos."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked, the hurt reflecting in his large brown eyes.

"I don't know." She answered honestly. "I think I always planned to, I just wanted to have something that was just mine. You know, from before." _From before we were turned into soldiers._

Dean nodded, understanding what she meant. Sam, however, still looked a little hurt.

"I haven't even gone through it." She admitted. "I opened it once. Took out a photo but that was it." She nodded towards her open bedroom door, where a frame was sitting on her nightstand. In it was the picture of the whole family, not long before Mary had been taken from them.

Dean sat back down on the couch and motioned for Jessa to sit beside him. The three siblings began going through the family photos and keepsakes in the trunk.

They had gotten to the bottom, and Jessa reached in and pulled out a small black box. She opened it and found a silver charm bracelet.

"What the heck?" She said it more to herself than anything.

"What?" Sam asked, peering over to see what she had.

"It's a charm bracelet." She explained, "But these are all protection charms."

"So?" Dean asked, "Dad's a Hunter."

Jessa turned it over in her hands, eyeing each charm. When she got to the clasp, she noticed something engraved on the small surface. "MC."

"What?"

"It has MC engraved on the clasp."

"Mary Campbell?" Sam offered, "That was Mom's maiden name."

"Yeah, but why would Mom have a bracelet like that?" Dean asked, with a scoff.

"Maybe Dad gave it to her?" Sam tried.

Jessa shook her head, "Dad didn't start hunting until after she died." She looked in the box and noticed a folded piece of paper. Gently, Jessa took it from the box and unfolded it. "It's a note. To our dearest Mary on her fifteenth birthday." She read, "May this always keep you safe, and remind you where you came from. All our love, Mom and Dad."

"Wait, Mom was a hunter?" Dean said incredulously, "That doesn't make any sense."

Jessa was silent, at a loss for what to say. It was Sam that finally spoke, "Did Dad know?"


	13. Chapter 13

Jessa opened one eye when the rude beeping of the alarm pulled her from her sleep. The sun was just peeking through the shades and shining directly into her eyes. She attempted to swat the light away, but after a moment she climbed out. Shuffling into the kitchen still half asleep, she made herself a coffee and almost drank it all in one go. When she shuffled back into her bedroom to get dressed, the first thing she noticed in the mirror was the bruise that was darker and uglier than the day before. Dressing quickly, she opted for a light scarf to cover the injury.

Dressed in the pale blue dress shirt, the silver chain that hung around her wrist was easily visible and Jessa found herself fingering one of the charms that hung against her thumb. It was a simple pentagram that was placed between a cross and a Buddha. There were a handful of other charms she recognised and one she didn't. It was a kind of star shape that she was sure she could find in one of her lore books. Dean had fastened the chain around her wrist just after she found it, commenting that it looked good on her.

Tugging on her jacket and helmet, she walked out her front door and to her bike.

She was just about to start it up when she heard a distinctive low rumbling getting closer. Swinging a leg over the side, so she was no longer straddling it, she waited until the Impala pulled to a stop at the curb.

"Morning." She greeted the boys when they climbed out of the car.

Sam nodded in response, but Dean didn't speak.

"Alright, well you caught me just as I'm leaving for work."

"That was the plan." Sam said.

"What? Are you skipping town again?"

Dean nodded. "We have to hit the road, J. You know how it is."

Jessa just nodded, she did know how it was. "Be safe, yeah?"

"Always." Sam wrapped her in a hug, and Dean did the same before they climbed back into the car and drove off.

"Come back soon." She muttered to no one in particular.

The next few weeks passed in a monotony of out of season scarves, paperwork and boredom, with the occasional case thrown in to break it up.

* * *

Jessa was sitting at her desk, feeling buried under the mountain of paperwork she had to get through.

"This is ridiculous!" She sighed, exasperated.

"It's your own fault, Winchester." Morgan laughed. He was sitting at Reid's desk, the two of them chatting about something. "You should do it as it comes, rather than waiting for it to pile up."

"Yeah, yeah." She grumbled, it definitely wasn't the first time he told her that.

"How much have you got left?" Reid asked her.

"I think if I speed up, and not do half of it, I can be done before Christmas."

Both Reid and Morgan laughed, Christmas was still six months away.

"Agent Winchester?" A junior agent walked up to her desk.

Jessa spun in her chair to face him, "Yes?"

"Uh, there's a man downstairs. Claims he needs to speak to you."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know, ma'am. He doesn't have ID. Says you'd know who he is."

"Fine." She stood up, her hand resting on her gun—an unconscious move to ensure it was actually there. She followed the young agent to the elevator and they rode down in silence. It was obvious the agent was new, because he kept shifting his weight nervously and glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"How long have you been here?" She finally asked to break the silence.

"Um, a week, now."

She nodded, a smile tugging at her lips as she remembered how nervous she had been fresh out of the Academy.

The doors chimed as they opened and she stepped into the lobby area. Straight away she spotted who had come to see her. She was surprised—she had been expecting Sam or Dean—but standing in her workplace was her father.

She made for him straight away, and gestured for him to follow her outside.

"What are you doing here?" She asked when there was no risk of being overheard.

"I need your help." John said simply.

"What's going on?"

He pulled out his cell and played back a message. " _We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse—its 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can."_ Dean's voice informed her.

"Ok." Jessa didn't need any more convincing. "I'll get my things." She turned back towards the elevator when John reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Where did you get this?" His thumb ghosted over the charm bracelet that had been a constant accessory since they had found it early that month.

"Found it." She said, "I was given a trunk full of things when we were in Lawrence, this was in it. Dad, was it Mom's?"

He shrugged, "She used to wear it around, but after her parents died and we got engaged she took it off. I didn't even realise she kept it."

"Was she a Hunter?"

"If she was I didn't know."

"Ok." She rushed back to her the elevator and impatiently pressed the button over and over until the doors slid open. When it reached her floor she all but ran up the stairs to Hotch's office. Barely waiting for a reply, she pushed the door open.

"What can I do for you, Winchester?" Hotch asked. Jessa hadn't stopped to consider that Hotch wouldn't be alone, and JJ sat opposite him with a case file in front of her.

"I need a few days." She said, then added, "Personal reasons."

Hotch sighed and clasped his hands in front of him, "From when?"

"Now, sir." The 'sir' was added as an afterthought.

"I don't think I can give you leave with this late notice, Winchester."

"With all due respect, sir, if you can't give me leave I'll still go."

If he was surprised by her words, he didn't let it show. "Very well. If it is this important, go. You have three days."

"Thank you!" She raced back to her desk to grab her helmet, jacket, and gloves, barely giving her colleagues a glance.

"Are you leaving?" Reid asked her.

"I'll be back in a few days." Was all she said before running off.

She mounted her Hawk and flew out the gates, meeting John just down the way.

"It's eleven hours to Chicago." She told him.

A wicked grin spread across his face, "Doesn't have to be."

* * *

They made it to Chicago in seven hours. Their first stop was the warehouse Dean had told them about. Jessa was about to climb off her Hawk when a woman fell from the top window.

"Woah!" She exclaimed.

John climbed out of his truck and stood next to her.

"We going in?"

"No. There's a hotel up the way a bit. We stayed there once, you were about eight. They'll be staying there now."

Jessa nodded, she remembered.

The pair made their way to the hotel, and John instructed her to wait outside while he went to see what room the boys were staying in.

"I've got this, Dad." She said and pushed past him into the hotel lobby. She walked purposefully to the counter and stood there with her sternest expression.

"Can I help you?" The middle aged man behind the desk asked without looking up.

"I hope so." She grabbed her badge and held it in front of his face. "I'm looking for two men, would've checked in in the last couple of days."

"We get a lot of people in."

"Two men, one is tall with longish hair, the other shorter with green eyes."

"I don't know."

"Look, I could bring you in for obstructing a federal investigation, or you could tell me what I need to know? Your choice."

"Look, two men like that checked in about two days ago."

"What room?"

"Sixteen."

Jessa walked back outside to John's truck, "Room sixteen."

"That was quick."

She waved her badge, "This helps."

John nodded and the two walked up to room sixteen.

"It's locked." John told her, trying the knob.

"Pick it."

It didn't take them long to gain access to the room, and found—as they expected—the boys weren't there.

"Now we wait." Jessa hoisted herself up on the window sill and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her jacket.

She placed one between her lips and lit it, then blew out a slow breath of smoke and watched it twist and curl through the open window and into the cool night air.

"Those damn things will kill you." John told her. "I didn't spend my life training you to fight, only to watch you die of cancer."

"I'm a big girl." She said taking another drag.

They waited for a few minutes before voices could be heard moving up the hall. After another moment the door opened and Sam and Dean stepped through. Dean noticed the pair first, "Hey!" He shouted as Sam fumbled to his bag for a weapon.

Jessa wasn't sure who did it, but the light flicked on and both boys stopped in their tracks.

"Dad?" Dean breathed out the syllable, his voice breaking.

"Hey boys." John took a step forward and embraced his oldest son. "Hi, Sam." He looked at the youngest Winchester, wanting nothing more than to hold his estranged son.

"Hey dad." Sam almost whispered, sadness seeping into his voice.

"Dad, it was a trap. I didn't know, I'm sorry." Dean sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

"It's alright." He assured, "I thought it might have been."

Jessa stubbed out her cigarette and swung her legs inside the room. "Anyway, so we arrived just in time to see the blonde bitch take a swan dive."

"She was the bad guy?" John asked.

"Yes, sir." Sam answered.

"Good. Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has?"

John nodded at his youngest, "It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell—actually kill it."

"How?" Dean asked.

"I'm working on that." John answered with a sly smile.

"Let us come with you. We'll help." Sam's voice was pleading, he may have been an adult but he still needed his father.

"No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand," He reasoned, "This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt."

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us."

"Of course I do. I'm your father." There was a pause, "Listen Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

"Yes, sir."

"It's good to see you again. It's been a long time."

"Too long." Sam hugged his father, tears spilling from his eyes.

They pulled apart, a moment later John was thrown across the room and Sam knocked over.

"The Daeva's!" Dean managed to shout before he, too, was thrown around the room.

Jessa watched a shadow approach her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure in the alley bellow. Checking she had her knife strapped to her ankle, she rolled off the windowsill and landed nimbly on the fire escape before the Daeva could get to her.

She rushed down the first few stairs then leapt off the side, landing heavily on the cement below her. With a groan she forced herself to her feet and faced the figure in front of her.

She was a petite woman with cropped blonde hair and a dangerous smile.

"Well, well." She grinned, "The oldest Winchester."

Jessa slipped the blade from its sheath, but the figure just laughed.

"Honey, you know that won't do a thing."

"I know," Jessa smiled. A nearby streetlight glistened off a pendant hanging from her neck, "I watched you fall from a building. But, I figure it will hurt like a bitch." Without warning Jessa flung the knife at the woman. It sailed through the air, silver blade shimmering in the dim light, before it embedded itself in her chest just below her collarbone.

Her eyes flashed black as she cried out. "You little bitch!" She roared.

Jessa flashed her a cocky Winchester smile as the pendant fell from her neck, its chain severed by the blade that stuck in her.

The demon's eyes darted to the window Jessa had come out of, just as a white light flared from within.

"You'd better run." Jessa said, half amused. "You don't control them anymore."

She sent Jessa a hateful glare before disappearing into the shadows. When Jessa was alone she rushed to the front door, almost running clean into Dean and John as they limped from the building, Sam close behind.

"Dad, are you ok?" Her father was leaning heavily on Dean. His clothes were torn up and blood gushed from a wound on his head.

"I'll live." He told her with a grimace.

Jessa's eyes flicked to her brothers. Her twin had a cut just above his eye and Sam had a bruise and claw marks down his face and neck.

"You guys ok?"

Sam nodded, but Dean just glared at her, "No thanks to you."

"Dean." John cautioned, knowing his only daughter's temper.

"Guys, we should go." Sam said, "As soon as that flare's out, they'll be back."

"No they won't." Jessa said, then glared at her twin, "No thanks to me."

She turned her back and started walking away.

"Where are you going, J?" Dean asked her, "We could use your help."

"I have to be back in Quantico." She told them, stopping to look back at them.

"We're closer than ever." Sam said, "We need you, Jessa. We have to stick together."

She scoffed, "Together is dangerous, Sam."

"We're stronger together."

"Sammy, she's right." Dean's voice was sad, "Dad can't come with us, either."

"What? What are you talking about?" He yelled, "We should stick together. We'll go after those demons!"

"Sam!" Dean yelled over his rant. "Listen to me. We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not going to stop. They're gonna try again, and they're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He's stronger without us around."

"Dad." Sam turned to John, pleading, "No. After everything—after all the time we spent looking for you—please. I gotta be part of this fight."

"Sammy, this fight is just starting." John told him sadly, "And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son."

Sam shook his head.

"You've got to let me go."

There was a few moments silence before Sam nodded his understanding, tears in his eyes.

"I'll see you all soon." Without another word, John limped to his truck and drove away. Jessa followed suit, and disappeared in her Hawk.


	14. Chapter 14

**So i totally meant to post this like three days ago... Oops.**

 **Anyway so this chapter leads into my absolute favourite Criminal Minds episode. Yay. please enjoy.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

Jessa pulled at the hem of her yellow sundress, waiting for the front door to open. The team was all going to Hotch's for a Fourth of July barbeque.

"Well, look at you, Bright Eyes." She turned around to find a smirking Derek Morgan leaning against his car. "You scrub up alright."

"Very funny."

"I wasn't trying to be."

Jessa rolled her eyes and turned back to the door just as it opened. Haley Hotchner stood there wearing a lovely blue blouse and skirt, baby Jack in her arms.

"Come in." She beamed, stepping aside to let them in, "Everyone is out the back."

Jessa followed her to the backyard where the rest of the team was milling about. Hotch and Gideon were behind the barbeque discussing something in depth, and JJ was mid conversation with Garcia, each woman had a glass of champagne.

"Looks like we're the last here, Bright Eyes." Morgan commented, before walking toward the barbeque.

Jessa walked over to JJ and Penelope.

"About time you got here." JJ said, handing her a glass filled with sparkling liquid.

"I'm not late."

"Ah, but you weren't early." Penelope put in. "Speaking of, I couldn't help but notice you arrive with a certain tall, dark and handsome man…?"

"Yeah," JJ agreed, "Did you and Morgan come together?" She accentuated the question with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Goodness no! He got here a little after me." She explained.

"Uh-huh." She could tell that neither of her friends believed her. Instead of trying to convince them, like every other time she say them, she just rolled her eyes and dropped it.

"I'm barely here and you're already hounding me."

JJ and Penelope exchanged a look but said nothing. It was then that Haley approached, Jack still sleeping soundly in her arms.

"He looks so sweet!" Garcia cooed at the baby.

"I know I should put him down to sleep, but sometimes I just can't bear to." She gushed, not taking her eyes off her baby.

"How are you feeling?" JJ asked.

"I have never been more tired, or happier in my entire life."

"Speaking of happy," Penelope started, "We need another bottle of this." She held up the empty bottle to prove her point, before she disappeared inside the house.

"I moved the other bottle." JJ said after a moment, "I'd better help her find it."

When they were alone, Haley turned to her, "I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?"

"I haven't seen you in a while, and I need to thank you for saving Aaron." She smiled sweetly, "The way he tells it, you saved his life in that parking garage."

Jessa shook her head, "If it weren't for me he wouldn't have been in that situation. You shouldn't be thanking me, Haley, you should hate me."

"Hate you? I couldn't because it wasn't your fault, don't beat yourself up."

Jessa opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by a buzzing sound.

"That's the oven." Haley declared, "Do you mind holding Jack?"

"I, um," She wasn't given a chance to respond because the baby was thrust into her arms and Haley disappeared into the house. "I'm not good with kids." She finished to herself. "I'm sorry. I have no idea what I am doing." She arranged him in her arms the way she had seen other people do.

After a moment, the little boy's eyes fluttered open and he let out a cry.

"Shhh." She tried, "Come on." Jessa started gently rocking him from side to side and after a moment he quietened down and closed his eyes.

"Wow, who know you would be so good with kids." JJ stated, coming to sit beside her.

"Good? JJ, I have no idea about kids."

Her friend just shrugged, "No one does."

"Where's Pen?"

"Helping Haley with the food." She told her, "And I think they need more hands." Again, she disappeared leaving Jessa alone.

"What about you kid, are you going to go too?" She asked Jack.

"You know he can't answer, right?" Hotch stated from behind her.

Jessa just shrugged, "I know, he's asleep." She said it as if that was the only thing stopping him from replying.

"He's also four months old." Hotch chuckled.

"That too."

"I'm surprised."

"About what?"

"He doesn't usually like strangers."

"Well, he's asleep. I doubt he realises."

"But you got him back to sleep. Most of the time I can't even do that." He took a step closer and stared at his child over her shoulder, "He should probably go to bed."

"I'll take him." She offered.

Hotch smiled and led her into the house and to Jack's nursery. The crib was nestled against the far wall, just below a large window. Jessa carefully placed the sleeping boy down, trying her best not to wake him.

She wanted to stay and watch him sleep forever, something that surprised her because she had never liked kids. Instead she turned away and almost ran clean into Hotch, who seemed to have the same idea about watching him sleep.

"Sorry." She breathed, realising how close they were standing.

"We should go." Hotch whispered, but neither of them made an attempt to move.

After a moment, Jessa cleared her throat and took a step backward. "We should go." She repeated his words, stepping around him and out the door. _What was that?_ She asked herself, shaking her head.

* * *

The sun had long since set, and Jessa declared that it was time for her to head off.

"How are you getting home?" Morgan asked her, slurring his words slightly.

"I'll call a cab."

"No, no, no." He said, pulling his keys from his pocket, "I'll drive you."

"Morgan, I don't even think you should drive yourself." Hotch told him. The whole team had been present at the barbeque, but none of them had drank quite as much as Morgan. He wasn't drunk, but he was definitely past being able to drive.

Jessa snatched the keys from his hands, "I will drive you." She told him, then turned to their hosts, "Thank you for a lovely day."

Haley stepped forward and embraced her, "Any time. You're always welcome."

Jessa thanked them again, then led Morgan out the front and to his car.

The ride to his place was silent and it wasn't until they pulled up that Derek spoke, "What are you going to do?"

"I'll call a cab." She told him, climbing from his car.

"Do you want to come in and wait for it?"

"Sure."

She followed him into his apartment, "Do you want tea? Coffee? Whiskey?" He asked her.

"I'm fine."

"Alright." He paused, standing right in front of her. "Are you going to call a cab?"

Jessa didn't even realised that she hadn't done that yet. "I should."

He took a step closer, "Probably."

"Yeah." Instead of getting her phone to make the call, she closed the distance between them and kissed him hungrily, pushing everything else to the back of her mind.

It didn't take long for the kiss to deepen, and after a moment her legs were wrapped around his waist and he was taking her to his bedroom.

* * *

Jessa lay awake, listening to Derek's gentle snoring. Her naked body was pressed up against his, and a warm summer's breeze blew in from the open window. She waited a few moments, before silently slipping from his bed and grabbing her discarded clothes from the floor. Careful not to make a sound, she stepped into the dress and shoes and snuck out the bedroom door.

She was sneaking through the living room and toward the front door when a light lit up the room.

"You leaving?" Derek asked.

Jessa turned to see him leaning up against the doorframe of his bedroom, dressed only in boxer shorts. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Why? Derek, this has to stop happening!" She told him, "How many times is it now? We work together, it's not a good idea."

"Have you ever stopped to think that it keeps happening because you want it to keep happening?" A trace of anger had seeped into his voice.

"Of course I have!" She yelled, "I do want this, but it can't. Not while we're working together."

He was silent for the longest time, and Jessa thought the conversation was over. She was about to turn and leave when he spoke again, "Then come away with me."

"What?"

"Come away with me. We have vacation time coming up in a couple of weeks and I have a buddy that has a hotel in Jamaica. Two weeks, just you and me. Then, if you still want to walk away, fine."

Jessa considered it for a moment before answering. "Ok." She told him, against her better judgement. "Two weeks."

* * *

Holiday time rolled around far quicker than she ever could have imagined, and suddenly it was the eve of their departure.

Jessa was sitting at her desk when a mug of coffee was placed in front of her, "Just think, this time tomorrow we will be sitting on a beach in the sun." Morgan smirked, sitting himself of the edge of the desk.

"Sounds heavenly." She replied, then added with a smirk, "Just wait until you see the bikini I got for the occasion."

"Oh, do not tempt me like that." H grinned, returning to his own desk. "What do you say, pretty boy?" He said to Reid, "Last chance. I can get my man to swing you a hotel room for next to nothing. Even you might get a little lovin' out there."

"Thanks anyway." He answered, stuffing things into his satchel, "I have to go—I'm going home. But, have a good one." He said then rushed out the door.

"He look ok to you?" Morgan asked, but Jessa just shrugged.

"He looks about the way I would if I was going to spend a fortnight with my family." JJ said, appearing behind them.

"Hey, don't knock family. I'm going to get nothing but it for the next three hundred and thirty six hours." Hotch said, all but skipping down the stairs. "Haley's got a list a mile long of chores, and I cannot wait. The hardest decision I'm going to have to make is where to start."

"I'm pretty sure she'll have something to say about that." Jessa smiled.

"Bring it on!" He laughed before leaving.

"What are your plans, JJ?" Jessa asked the media liaison.

She just groaned, "I don't get the same holiday time as the rest of you, so I will be hiding behind the stack of files in my office."

"Gross." Jessa commented.

"I'll be lost in a cabin in the woods for two weeks!" Gideon said, appearing beside them, "Do not call me for anything. Have a great time, you all deserve it." He rushed while walking away, "But seriously, don't call." With that he disappeared.

"That's my cue to leave." Jessa declared, grabbing her bike gear.

"Meet you at the airport in the morning." Morgan told her, "Do not miss that flight or so help me."

Without turning around she raised one hand in a wave and disappeared out the door.

The first thing she did when she got back to her unit was switch her mobile off and put it in the empty drawer in the kitchen.

"Two weeks, no distractions." She told herself.

* * *

As soon as they arrived at the hotel, Derek stripped off his clothes and dressed for the beach.

"I will meet you on the sand." He declared, leaving the room.

Jessa used the time alone to dress in her brand new khaki bikini. She looked herself in the mirror, checking it out from all angles. The top was simple, with a secondary strap a little lower than the first one, and the matching bottoms left very little to the imagination. She then pulled her hair out of its braid, and styled it so it would cascade down her back, with the shorter bits resting on her shoulders. Then she grabbed her broad brimmed straw hat. I was a light tan colour, with the sides upturned to resemble a cowgirl hat, with a string of shells resting along the brim. Refusing to take off her bracelet, she slipped her wayfarers on and left the room, locking the door behind her.

When she got to the beach it didn't take her long to find Derek. He was standing next to two empty beach chairs, talking to another man. She sauntered toward them, loving the way Derek's eyes followed her every step. When she reached them Derek placed a hand on the small of her back and introduced her to the man he was talking with.

"Jessa, this is Gerald Dupree. Gerald, this is Agent Jessamine Winchester."

"Jessa, please." She told him, shaking his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you." He smiled, "If you need anything, please ask." With that he walked away.

"You," Derek turned to her, "Were not lying about that bikini." He pulled her closer and kissed her deeply.

When they broke apart, Jessa laid back on the chair and grabbed the margarita that he had got for her.

"Come on." Derek said after over an hour. He got to his feet and took Jessa's hand, pulling her to hers.

"What?"

Without warning, he wrapped one arm around her legs and slung her over his shoulder. "Derek, what the hell are you doing?" Her hat fell to the sand by her chair as he carried her off. "Put me down." She laughed.

She seemed to spur him on, and he took off at a run. Jessa understood what was happening when water from his feet splashed onto her, but by then it was too late to stop it.

Suddenly, she was being thrown through the air and into the ocean. The water was only waist deep and she stood up, pushing her wet hair from her face and straightening up her sunglasses.

"I'm going to kill you." She declared walking toward where he was standing, barely knee deep.

Derek caught her before she reached him, and she ended up in the water yet again, only this time she pulled him down with her. When they both surfaced, he was laughing at her and Jessa couldn't help but join in.

"Still going to kill you." She said.

"And I believe you." He chuckled in reply, splashing her with water.

"You're an ass." She took a step toward him and he enveloped her in his arms, kissing her. Jessa smiled against his lips and wound her arms around his neck, allowing him to pull her even closer. "You keep kissing me like that and we won't see much of the sun and sand you promised me." She said walking out of the water.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" He called out after her. She just chuckled and returned to the chair to dry off in the sun.

They spent the remainder of the day between the water and the sand, and when the sun set Derek pulled her toward the bar where a number of couples were dancing. It was very late in the night when she finally declared that she was going to bed. Derek was at the bar talking with a new friend he had made.

"I'm heading to bed." She told him, giving him a quick kiss.

"I'll join you." He bid goodbye to his mate and draped his arm over her shoulder as they walked back to their room.

"You know, I think this is the first holiday I've ever taken."

"What?"

"Yeah, I think this is the first."

"How do you go your whole life without a holiday?"

She shrugged, "We travelled around as kids. I guess Dad didn't see the need."

"What about when you lived in Nebraska?"

"I was always working."

"Well then, I'm glad I'm your first." He joked, pulling her in and kissing her.

He backed her against a door, running his hands down the length of her mostly bare torso. She was wearing nothing but her bikini and a white sarong, and Derek played with the knot holding it up.

Jessa smiled against his lips and swatted his hand away.

"Come on." He whined.

She just gave him a flirty smile and reached into his back pocket to grab the room key. She laced her fingers with his and pulled him up the hall toward their room.

She barely had the keys in the lock when his hands were on her body again, his lips on her neck.

As soon as the door fell open, Jessa was pulling him inside.

She spun around in his arms, letting her sarong fall to the ground in the process. She smiled up at him through thick lashes and tugging him the last few feet toward the bed.

Derek's hands were gentle on her body as he touched and caressed her. His lips roamed her body as they each shed the last of their clothes.

* * *

Jessa lay on her stomach, drifting into a contented sleep as Derek traced soft circles on her bare back.

"Feels nice." She whispered, sighing happily.

She felt Derek's soft chuckle before his hand ran through her hair.

"I'm glad I'm here." She whispered, opening her eyes to look at him.

"That makes two of us." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

She allowed her eyes to slide shut, just revelling in the moment. A warm breeze blew in from the open window and the moonlight cast an eerie silver light across the room.

"I'm going to run downstairs, get something to eat." He told her after a while.

"Can't you order room service?"

He just chuckled, "Not this late at night. Plus, if I drop Gerald's name I might be able to get us a decent bottle of something."

"Sounds amazing."

He climbed from the bed and slipped into some clean clothes, "I'll be twenty minutes. Thirty tops." He gave her a quick kiss before ducking out of the room.

Jessa lay in the bed for another few minutes before climbing from the bed and getting a bottle of water from the mini bar. She took a few sips before slipping into a tank top and boyshorts and climbing back into bed to wait for Derek.

She must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing she knew someone was on top of her.

"What the hell? Get off of me!" She screamed, trying to wriggle free from the hands that held her. "What is going on?" It didn't take her much longer to realise what was going on before a pair of handcuffs were slapped on her wrists.

As she was being led from the room she noticed all the blood.

"That wasn't me!" She tried to tell them but no one would listen. "Where the hell is Derek?" She asked, but again was ignored.

She was taken to the local police station where they cuffed her to a chair. She was made to wait for what felt like hours before someone arrived to interrogate her.

He asked her the usual questions: Name, why she was there, who was the victim, why did she kill him.

"For the hundredth time," She yelled in frustration, tugging at the cuffs that bound her, "I didn't know there was a victim until you dragged me out of bed!"

"Where is the victims head?"

"Well, I must have dropped it on my way down here." She tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice but failed miserably. "Come on, you know I have nothing to do with this! I am an American FBI Agent. I'm here on vacation! I'm the police, just like you." The last part of her tirade sounded defeated, and she slumped back against the chair just as the door opened and an officer walked in, placed a sheet of paper on the table and left again.

"Are you the 'her'?" Her interrogator asked.

"Excuse me?" He put the paper in front of her Jessa realised it was a picture. It was of the crime scene and on the wall, in what had to be the victim's blood, it said 'SAVE HER'. "I don't know anything about this."

The man got up and walked out of the room, leaving her alone. _Where the hell are you, Derek?_ She thought, _Please help me get out of here._

The longest time later her interrogator returned. "What time did you leave the beach?"

"Around midnight, I think. I don't really know, it was late."

"Were you alone?" He asked her.

She considered lying for a moment before deciding that the truth was the best option, "No."

"I have witnesses that put you with a man at the beach." He shrugged, "Care to elaborate?"

"I don't, actually."

"I'm going to rephrase that. Who was the man you were with, and where is he now?"

She rolled her eyes, "He's my—" She struggled to think of a word that adequately described her and Derek's relationship, before settling on, "boyfriend."

"And where is he now?"

"He went to get us something to eat."

If he was going to ask her any more questions, he didn't because right then the door opened and Hotch barged in with Derek behind him.

"Thank god." She whispered.

"Detective, I'm SSA Hotchner, Agent Winchester's superior."

Jessa couldn't help but smile, the cavalry had arrived.

"We're not finished here." The detective said.

"Agent Winchester only arrived yesterday afternoon, and I brought a forensics expert. He's examined the body and put the time of death at no less than twenty-four hours ago." He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to Jessa, who took it gratefully. It was hot so she was wearing nothing more than a tank top and some shorts in a questionable size. Jessa wrapped the jacket around herself, glad that it covered more than her 'pyjamas' did. Despite the fact that she was on vacation with another man, there was something extremely intimate about wearing her boss' clothes. Hotch went on, "This is based on advanced rigor mortis and the contents of his stomach that contained a meal he ordered from room service two days ago. What this means is that Agent Winchester wasn't even here when this man was killed. Now, I appreciate that you're in a difficult situation and Agents Morgan and Winchester are happy to cooperate in any way they can, but they'll do it from our offices in Quantico, Virginia."

The detective sighed and tossed the keys to the handcuffs across the table. Jessa snatched it up and unlocked herself, flexing her sore wrist. She slipped her other arm into the jacket and followed her boss from the station. They climbed into a car and he drove them back to the hotel in complete silence.

When they pulled up out front he finally spoke, "The plane leaves in an hour, go get your things." His voice had the finality of an order and both Jessa and Morgan hurried from the vehicle.

They packed up their bags in silence, and Jessa slipped into the bathroom to put some clothes on. She opted for the most modest outfit she packed, an almost sheer white singlet with a ribbed back and a denim skirt. She slipped into a pair of black sandals before grabbing the rest of her bags and leaving the room with Derek.

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't see that between the two of you only one room was booked." Hotch said during the all but silent ride to the airport. "As long as you can assure me that whatever this is will not interfere with your work."

Jessa just nodded, suddenly feeling like she was five years old and being scolded for taking too many cookies.

* * *

When they landed they headed straight to the FBI building at Quantico to meet with the rest of the team.

"Are you sure you don't want to go home and get some rest? Have a shower?"

"Like hell." Jessa replied.

"I'm good." Morgan added.

"How much sleep have the two of you gotten in the last twenty four hours?"

Jessa averted eye contact as a blush crept up her cheeks when she realised what he was insinuating.

"We're good, Hotch." Morgan told him.

"I've spent half of the night in an interrogation room. I'm not going to rest until we have this Frank Giles."

"Frank Giles left Jamaica last night on the red eye." JJ announced, coming to stand with the group. "Flew to Florida then got on another flight to Virginia."

"Virginia? You mean that son of a bitch is from here?" Jessa asked, shocked.

"I don't know if he's from here, but this is where he flew to. Arlington. He's got a long criminal record, robbery, manslaughter, rape."

"What about the victim, Marty Harris?" Morgan asked.

"He's a two time convicted fetish burglar," JJ read from the file in front of her, "Registered child sex offender."

"We have his head." Gideon said, joining them. "CSU just positively identified the one that was sent to my cabin."

"Don't waste time on the first two victims. They were unrepentant bad men." Hotch quoted, "And they only got what they deserved."

"What is that?" Morgan asked.

"I got a phone call last night just before you called me from Jamaica."

"He didn't mention a 'her'?" Jessa asked.

"You must help him save her." Hotch finished.

"There's a 'him' now, too?"

"I think he means Reid." Gideon explained.

"Reid?"

"We need to regroup." Hotch told them. "Briefing room."

"I'm just going to change." Jessa grabbed her go-bag from at her desk and took out some work appropriate clothes and quickly changed in the bathroom. Then she returned to her desk for her badge and gun before meeting the others in the briefing room.

"Clearly we have a psychopath intent on drawing us into his game." Hotch began as soon as Jessa sat down.

"He's toying with us." Gideon said.

"Then let's return the favour." Jessa thought out loud.

"He kept telling us to save _her_." Morgan started, "What 'her'?"

"The items he sent might be some kind of clues." Gideon tried.

"Let's get them up on the board." Hotch ordered.

Gideon started, "I got a Nellie Fox baseball card from 1963 and I got a head in a box."

"I got a rare butterfly in a shadow box." JJ added, writing it all up on the board.

"And repeated messages to 'save her'." Hotch put in.

"I got a decapitated body and a nice trip to the Jamaica police headquarters." Jessa bit sourly.

"Reid called me from Vegas." Gideon informed the team, "He's on his way back with a skeleton key and a note he got too."

"And the guy that called me said that the youngest one holds the key." Hotch finished.

"Well, that's gotta be Reid."

"Wait a minute." Morgan interrupted, "Unsubs, they don't contact us this way. I mean, they might taunt us, dare us to catch them, but they don't drag us into their fantasies."

"Why not?" JJ asked, turning away from her list.

"Because they're sexual fantasies." He explained. "I mean, taunting us is a show of power but making us the object is…" He trailed off, "I don't know what the hell that is."

"There's something else about the baseball card." Gideon said, "Nellie Fox is one of the stars of the 1959 White Sox. I went to almost every game with my father that year, Fox was my hero. So, is it a coincidence he sent this to me, or does he know how I feel about him?"

"I collected butterflies when I was a little girl." JJ told them, "That's how I knew what type of butterfly was in the box."

"So then he knows us." Morgan said, adding up the facts.

Hotch shook his head, "I got an anonymous message."

"And I got a police raid." Jessa added, "Surely he doesn't think that's what I wanted."

"But he knew where we were." Morgan went on, "Hotel in Jamaica, Gideon at the cabin, Reid in Vegas, you at your home." He turned to face Hotch.

"He got that from the Bureau computers." Garcia entered sadly. "Your location's always in there so we can find you if we need you."

"Creepy." Jessa breathed.

"I checked the log, the hacker was definitely in the personal folders. It was all in there, the room numbers to the hotel in Jamaica, the address of Gideon's cabin. There's a lot of information in those databases."

"Have you figured out how he could get into the Bureau's computers?" Hotch asked.

"Uh, I'm still working on that." She said.

"Garcia," Hotch cautioned, "If you know something…"

"No, it—um, its—I was playing a game yesterday," She finally stammered out, "An online game."

"A game?" Gideon asked.

"Not on the Bureau computers, sir." Garcia quickly replied, "On my own personal laptop."

"No, Garcia." Morgan moaned. "No, no, no, no, no."

"I don't understand." Hotch said.

"Wireless internet." Jessa said quietly.

"By wirelessly hooking into the net here to get online, the hacker could have gotten into my computer first, and I have far less protection on my laptop."

"He could have gotten into the entire Bureau computer system this way?" Garcia nodded her reply.

"A game." Gideon repeated, shaking his head. "How could you be that stupid? Information files? You have a responsibility."

"I know, sir. I'm so sorry." She sobbed. There was an awkward silence in the room until she added, "But I found him."

"You what?" Jessa stated, astonished that she hadn't told them that first.

"I found him." She repeated. "I know who he is. His name is Giles, Frank Giles. He lives in Arlington, Virginia. Four miles from here, I have his address." She handed Hotch a slip of paper.

"Garcia, you said Giles?" Morgan asked, "Frank Giles?"

"Yeah."

"We got him." Jessa smiled.

"Gear up." Hotch ordered.

* * *

It only took them a few minutes to get to Giles' apartment. When they found the appropriate one, Jessa kicked the door in so the other agents could clear the room. When it was cleared, she entered side by side with Morgan, the rest of the team following behind them. They came to a set of double doors, and when they pushed them open they found the last thing they wanted to find: Frank Giles dead in the middle of the room with a sword in his chest.

* * *

 **I hate myself a little for leaving it there...**


	15. The Academy

**So, this is just a fun little bonus chapter. I've decided that every few chapters or so I'll post flashback chapters, such as this one, mostly because they are so much fun to write. Plus, writing things like this help me work through my writer's block when it hits.**

 **Meet Jessa in the Academy.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

Jessa pulled herself from her bed and dressed quickly in the uniform, tossing her pillow at her roommate, Heather Scott, to get her out of bed.

"Get your lazy ass up, Scott. They'll kick you out if you're late again."

"Don't tell me what to do, Winchester." She mumbled, pulling the covers over her face.

"Suit yourself. But don't come crying to me when they kick your ass out of Quantico."

With a groan, Scott pulled herself out of bed and shuffled to the shower. Jessa walked down the hall to the common area to make an extra strong coffee.

"Ready to go, Winchester?" Another Agent-in-training asked, slapping her on the back.

"More ready than you, McCall." She bit back. Alex McCall was a rich kid from a white collar family and he was the definition of entitled.

"I don't need to be ready. I'm better than you."

Jessa just laughed, "I think I've proved more than once that isn't true. I'm faster than you, stronger than you, smarter than you and a way better marksman than you. So quit pretending that you're going to get through the Academy."

McCall laughed, "Its all part of my plan, Winchester. Get you comfortable enough so that you become complacent and I can beat you."

"Nice plan, dumbass." She rolled her eyes and walked away from him.

"McCall giving you trouble again?" Scott asked, approaching with coffee in hand.

"It's only trouble if I can't handle it." She downed her coffee, "Come on. If we don't leave now we'll be late for PT."

They made their way to the gym with the other trainees for their latest combat lesson.

"I heard we have a new instructor and I heard he was hot." Scott tittered when they got there.

"As long as we get taught what we need to know to get through the Academy."

"Ugh, you are so boring. When was the last time you got laid?"

"No appropriate, Scott."

"Whatever."

Whatever conversation was left was cut short by their instructor entering the room, "Attention NATs, I am here to whip you into shape and see which ones of you are good enough for the FBI."

"Oh boy." Jessa muttered, recognising his voice.

"I am Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan. Let's get started."

"'Oh boy'?" Scott asked.

"I know him." She whispered back.

"Know him? Like _know_ him know him?"

"Am I interrupting you?" Morgan addressed them.

"No, Sir." Jessa answered.

"What's your name, trainee?"

"It's Winchester, Sir." She played along.

"Well, Winchester. You've just volunteered to demonstrate."

Jessa followed him up to the front of the room to begin his demonstration.

"Okay, now I'm going to put Winchester here in a choke hold and she's going to see if she can get free because she doesn't think she needs to listen." Morgan moved behind her and wrapped his arm around her neck, putting her in a choke hold. "Don't hold back, Bright Eyes." He whispered when their bodies were pressed flush against each other.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Sir." The 'sir' was an added taunt.

It took her all of three seconds to have him on the ground with a handful of moves she learned when she was eight years old.

"Explain what you just did to me, Winchester."

"She kicked your ass, Sir." One of the other trainees called out, causing the room to snigger.

"I offset the balance of your attack, sir." Jessa told him, "You're bigger than me so I used that against you and, like O'Connell said, kicked your ass."

"Do it again, but this time slower. Show the group."

They got back into position and Jessa repeated her movements slowly while Morgan explained to the group what she was doing.

"Watch Winchester's legs." He said, "I'm attacking with my right arm, so she's put her left leg behind mine to give her leverage so she can use my weight against me. So when she extends her arm across my body she can easily toss me like I weigh nothing."

Jessa demonstrated, once again tossing him to the ground. "At least give me a challenge, Sir." She taunted.

"Alright. What about a frontal assault, Agent-Trainee Winchester." He faced her and wrapped both hands around her neck. This one was more familiar to her, bringing images flashing through her mind of when she was thirteen.

* * *

 _John was out on a hunt and she and Dean were doing the usual: Sitting tight and looking after Sam. It was nearing midnight and Sam was running a fever and, as usual, Dean was freaking out._

" _Relax." Jessa told him, "There was an all-night drug store a couple of blocks up the road. I'll go get something for him."_

" _Dad told us not to leave the room." Dean objected._

" _Dad also said to take care of Sam."_

 _She jogged up the road to the store and, with the last of their food money, bought something to lower his temperature. On the way home she cut through a park—something her gut screamed at her not to do. She had always prided herself on trusting her instincts, but this time Sam was at the forefront of her mind._

 _She was almost across the unlit park when a figure attacked her from behind, knocking her to the ground. Training taking over, she scrambled back to her feet and managed to make it a few feet before the much-larger figure caught up to her, grabbing her around the neck and pinning her to a nearby tree._

 _John had trained them since they were much smaller, and she knew what had to be done but as her assailant fumbled with his pants buckle she froze up._

 _Luckily, an insomniac was taking his dog for a midnight run and spooked her attacker into taking off. Jessa, too, took off and when Dean asked her what took so long she blamed it on the queue of night shift workers at the drug store._

* * *

As the images flashed through her mind, panic took over. She brought her arm up over his and jabbed two fingers into his trachea with all of her strength. When he stumbled backwards she sent a sharp punch into the same spot, followed by a swift kick to his solar plexus.

Morgan was completely winded for a few seconds as Jessa stormed from the room. She had made it halfway down the hall when he caught up.

"What the hell happened in there?"

"You told me not to hold back." She answered without breaking stride.

He was in front of her within seconds, holding her in the spot. "No, the first time wasn't holding back. You lost control in there, Jessa. Come on, you're better than that."

"Am I?" The venom behind the question was unmissable. "You don't even know me, Derek."

"Then let me in. Tell me what happened, okay? Something had you spooked and that caused you to lose control in there."

"I was attacked, okay!" She yelled at him, "When I was thirteen. I went to the drug store one night to get something for my little brother and on the way home I was attacked. He choked me and pinned me against a tree."

"Jessa, I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

"No one does! I never told anyone!"

"Why not?"

"Because I froze. I should have been able to break his hold easily but I froze. I was ashamed so I didn't tell anyone. I found out a few days later that he was a rapist. The police caught him but not after he raped and killed eight girls my age."

Morgan took a step backward, giving her some breathing space. "I've been watching you, you know. You're making good progress here and you're topping all of your classes, acing every test."

"So what?"

"You've got what it takes, Agent-Trainee Winchester. So I want to see you walk back into that gym and show the rest of those NATs that you are going to be the best damn Agent that ever came through here."

"Yes, Sir." She couldn't help but smile as they walked back into the room.

Morgan gave orders for the trainees to pair up and practise the techniques they had been taught, but O'Connell, ever the trouble maker, had other plans.

"I want to see Winchester kick your ass again, Sir." He called out a few minutes into the assignment.

"Winchester couldn't kick my ass again, I only allowed it for the sake of the demonstration." Morgan assured him with a small smirk.

"I don't know, sir." She said after tossing Scott to the ground, "I think I could take you."

He walked right up to her and smiled, "Is that a challenge, Trainee?"

"That's a guarantee, sir."

The room 'ooh'ed as she stepped up, toe to toe with Morgan.

"What are the stakes?" He asked.

"If I win you have to write me a letter of recommendation for any posting I desire after I graduate."

"So sure you'll graduate? Cockiness is not an admirable trait."

"I'm so sure I'll _win_ that if I don't, I'll request my posting to be the least popular posting—a punishment posting if you will. I'll even let you write that recommendation letter too."

Again, the room 'ooh'ed.

"Alright." He agreed to her terms, "You're so sure that you'll win, where would you like for me to recommend your posting?"

"Behavioural Analysis Unit."

"I don't know, Trainee, that's a pretty elite unit.

"They let you in, didn't they?"

"Just so you know, I'm going to have you stuck in a mailroom somewhere for the duration of your career." He teased, only mildly serious.

"Oh no. I'm going to be bossing your ass around the BAU in no time."

More 'ooh'ing from her classmates encouraged them. The other NATs made a circle and Jessa and Morgan began sparring.

Jessa started out pulling her punches, until she ended up pinned to the ground and Morgan had an amused smirk on his face.

"I know you can do better than that, Bright Eyes." He teased, pulling her to her feet.

Before he was fully prepared, she sent two quick jabs to his solar plexus then swept his feet out from under him. He was on his back before he could register what happened.

"Like that?" There was an amused chatter amongst the trainees.

She dropped her focus when he was on the ground, so he grabbed at her leg pulling her on top of him. He quickly flipped her so she was pinned.

"Don't let your guard down." He was pressed against her, his face inches from hers but he didn't move. "If I was an unsub you'd probably be dead by now."

She smirked at him, wrapping one leg around his waist and rolling so she had the control. She had a knee against his chest and a hand at his throat. Barely missing a beat, he used one arm to swipe hers away and the other to send a light jab into her face, just hard enough to shift her weight off him so he could leap to his feet.

Jessa wasn't far behind, circling him with her fists raised. This time, it was Morgan that made the first move—sending a quick punch into her shoulder and following by wrapping his leg behind hers and forcing her to her knees. In that position, Jessa sent her elbow into his stomach and, with her hand around his knee, forced him to the ground. While pulling him down, she got to her feet and within a single moment she had him on his stomach with her knee in his back.

With a satisfied smirk she put the weight of her knee on the centre of his back.

Her classmates applauded her victory.

"Do you concede?" She asked Morgan.

"I get it, you win." He chuckled.

She got off him and helped him to his feet.

"No way you actually beat him." McCall said, pushing his way to the front of the group.

"How'd I do it then?" She asked.

"He obviously let you win. I bet you can't beat someone that doesn't want to sleep with you." He rolled up his sleeves in challenge.

"Right then, McCall. You find someone that doesn't want to sleep with me and we'll give it a try." She smirked and turned her back on him. She had barley taken three steps when she heard his light steps behind her. Blinded by anger at his predictable coward attack, she spun around and grabbed him by the arm and tossing him to the ground in one fluid motion, "I didn't mean you, McCall. You don't meet the criteria."

Morgan stepped forward and helped McCall, and his bruised ego, to his feet. "Don't pick a fight that you cannot win, Trainee. Winchester's been doing this her whole life."

McCall just scowled at her.

"Tell me next time you need your ass kicked, McCall. I'll be more than happy to do it again." She gloated.

He turned from her and walked from the room.

"I believe you owe me a recommendation, Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan."

"Only if you graduate, Trainee."

* * *

 **So this took so much google to get write because (if you couldn't tell from the chapter) I know nothing about fighting, so google told me all I needed to know.**


	16. Chapter 15

**Here we go. These chapters have been particularly fun to write because the Fisher King episodes are my absolute favourite in all 10 and a bit seasons of Criminal Minds! Plus i love writing Jessa into established stories. Anyways, enough from me.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

The body was laying on a bed in the middle of the room, a sword sticking out of him.

"That can't be accidental." Jessa said, holstering her gun.

"Hotch, Gideon." Morgan called, "You're going to want to see this."

Almost instantly, both Hotch and Gideon were standing with them.

"A sword?" Gideon asked.

Jessa made a move to enter the room, but Hotch held out his arm to stop her. "It could be rigged." He said.

"I doubt it." Morgan reasoned, "Everything he's done so far has been to draw us in, not to harm us."

The other agents stepped into the room to begin collecting evidence, but Hotch's eyes couldn't leave the bloody message on the wall.

"Here thy quest doth truly begin." He read. "He's definitely playing with us."

"Well," Jessa said, going through some of the things in the corner of the room, "His identification checks out. This is definitely Frank Giles."

"There's a big old bag of money sitting right here on the dresser." Morgan observed.

"So Giles took Harris to Jamaica to kill him, then the unsub killed Giles?" Hotch speculated.

"But he paid him first?"

"He left the cash, so he's not short of funds." Jessa said.

"He said these were 'unrepentant bad men', are we looking for some sort of vigilante?" Hotch asked the group.

"No." Gideon answered, "The bodies are nothing but a way to get us interested. They're game pieces; the killings are secondary."

"Well, he certainly likes to write things on the walls in blood." Jessa mused.

"There's all kinds of cult and demonic significance to that." Morgan stated, but Jessa shook her head.

"It's more than that." She stared at the writing, "All the other messages have been in modern English, why switch it up now?"

"Maybe this is the first message the unsub actually wrote?" Morgan tried.

"Great, now we're looking for Shakespeare." Jessa said dryly.

"Hey, guys?" The forensics woman who was inspecting the body called for their attention, "There's something etched on the blade.

Hotch crouched down to the sword's level and began to read, "To learn of what should next be done, leave the blade 'til the hour be none."

"Hour be none?" Morgan asked, his confusion evident.

"Leave the blade." Hotch repeated. "The bed's in the middle of the room."

"Which isn't by chance." Jessa cut in.

"And maybe the light from here casts a shadow and points to something?"

"Come on, are we in the middle of an Indiana Jones movie?" Morgan asked.

"The hour be none?" Hotch went on.

"Midnight is 0000 hours in twenty-four hour time, would that be none?"

"Midnight wouldn't cast a shadow." Hotch shut down his theory.

"Hour be none." Jessa thought out loud.

"Three pm." All the Agent's turned to see Reid enter the room, "Garcia told me where to find you."

"Three pm?" Gideon asked the young genius.

"It's medieval. The days used to be broken into hourly intervals, the canonical hours of breviary. Prime: six am, Terce: nine am, Sext: twelve noon, None: three pm and Vespers: six pm."

"Please don't ever leave again, Reid." Jessa told him.

"Medieval." Gideon ignored the banter, "That's why the language changed."

"Everything this guy does is a clue." Hotch told them.

"Yeah, but its four thirty-five. What are we going to do? Leave the blade in until three pm tomorrow?" Morgan asked logically.

"Not if we can block that window out." Reid said, "Do you have a spotlight in your car?" He asked the forensics woman.

She nodded and rushed from the room.

"Winchester, can you grab the curtains?" Hotch asked.

Jessa obliged and the thick curtains managed to block out most of the afternoon light. Hotch stood from his position and began pacing the room while waiting for the torch to be brought to them.

Moments later, the forensics lady return and handed the light to Reid.

"Ok, so the sun is here at five pm." He shone the light from low and a shadow appeared on the wall, "Morgan, follow the shadow as I move the light higher."

He moved a nightstand and a few odds and ends as the sword's shadow sunk lower on the wall "Ok… And do what?"

"Knock." Hotch told him, crossing his arms across his chest.

Morgan obliged, and knocked on the wall where the shadow of the hilt crossed the blade. He followed the shadow, until his knock was met with a hollow sound.

"Ok, now it's definitely an Indiana Jones movie." Morgan said. "It feels like the wallpaper's been replaced."

"Tear it open." Hotch ordered.

Morgan felt his pockets for his pocket knife, realising he didn't have it.

"Here." Jessa pulled her switchblade from her back pocket and cut into the wall where it was hollow.

"What happened to your other knife?" Morgan asked as she cut. "The one you usually have strapped to your ankle?"

"I left it in…" She was about to say 'someone' when she thought it best to censor the conversation so she opted for, "Chicago."

Once she had cut into it, she used the heel of her hand to cave in the rest of it. Nestled in the hiding place was a wooden box.

"It's a box." Morgan said.

"Take it out." Hotch ordered.

Jessa reached into the hole to grab it but Reid stopped her, "Are we sure it's safe?"

"What? You think it's a bomb? You think he'd be playing this game just to blow us up?" Hotch said, his tone clipped.

"He would have already done that." Jessa said, pulling the box free of its nook. She placed it down on the floor and attempted to open it. "It's locked."

"Break it." Morgan suggested.

"No, we have to process it first." Hotch informed them.

"The youngest holds the key." Gideon interrupted.

The wheels clicked over in Reid's head and he fished a small yellow envelope from his breast pocket and pulled a skeleton key from it.

The key fit perfectly into the lock and with a click, it unlocked. The youngest agent lifted the lid, everyone in the room bracing themselves for what they would find inside.

Instead of a bang, or body parts, the box played soft, sweet music.

They all stared at it for a moment, shocked at what it actually was.

"Schubert." Gideon announced, "The Trout Quintet."

Jessa was about to ask how he knew that when Reid pulled a note from inside.

"Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man's sight." He read.

"Well, that was worth it." Jessa spat sarcastically, but closed her mouth when Hotch sent her a warning look. "Sorry." She mumbled her apology.

"The lid." Gideon said, studying the inside of the box. "There's a little tab right under the lock."

Reid looked to where he was pointing and found it. Gently pulling on it, the false top came off to reveal a lock of blonde hair tied up in a pink bow, and a CD that read 'THY QUEST'.

Jessa grabbed the lock of hair and slipped it into an evidence bag.

"Thy quest." Morgan said, picking up the disc. "This is some sick game."

"Hopefully we get DNA from the hair." Hotch said.

"That's what he wants." Jessa said it more to herself than anyone.

"What do you mean?"

"Everything he's done, the murders, the letters, it was all to lead us here. And now this." She gestured to the box. "He wants us to know who 'she' is. That's part of the game."

"Alright." Hotch agreed, "Gather up the evidence and we'll head back."

* * *

Jessa ended up in the car with Hotch for the drive back to the FBI building. Hotch kept a steady grip on the steering wheel, and his stern expression didn't leave the road.

"Go on." Jessa told him, knowing he wanted to say something.

"What was the nature of you vacation with Morgan?"

"Is it relevant, or do you just want to know?"

For the first time his gaze left the road and he studied her for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. "As Unit Chief, any change in relationship between any members of my team is relevant." He said, not a trace of emotion evident in his voice, "Any relationship between you and Agent Morgan should have been reported to me immediately."

"There's no relationship." She told him.

"So you aren't sleeping with him?"

Jessa's silence was answer enough, but she spoke anyway, "We dated, sort of, in the past. It was a bit over five months while I was in the Academy and before, but that relationship ended when I was sent to Omaha."

"That should have been declared during your interviews."

"It wasn't relevant then. We left things as friends and it never affected our ability to work together." She said, anger seeping into her voice, "And besides, as long as it isn't affecting the team, I really don't see why it should be your business, sir." She added as an afterthought.

"And Jamaica?" Her outburst seemed to not have fazed him.

"It was just a holiday." She told him solemnly, "Two weeks, that's it."

Their conversation was brought to an abrupt halt when they arrived back at the FBI building, and Jessa was all too happy to climb out and leave that conversation in the SUV.

* * *

When the whole team was assembled in the briefing room, JJ slipped the disc into the DVD player she had set up.

The video showed a large study, with the unsub—naught but a silhouette in the foreground—sitting behind a grand desk.

" _I assure you,"_ The unsub started, " _You'll all understand in the end why it must be that way. You might even thank me. You know now you're on a quest. A young girls life depends on the successful completion of it. As you can see, she's quite beautiful.._." The video cut to an image of a young blonde girl manacled to an old bed, there was no audio, but the girl appeared to be screaming as she threw objects toward the camera that, no doubt, the unsub was behind. " _And in distress. Now please listen closely_ ," It cut back to the study, " _for there is one rule and this rule must be followed. The one rule is... Only the members of your team may participate in the quest. Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Jessamine Winchester, Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia_." When he listed their names, images of them flashed across the screen, each one taken at a different crime scene to the last. " _A quest must be completed in the proper way or it isn't a quest, is it? That's it. One rule. Simple. Now, you will be receiving an item soon that will hold the final clue you'll need to finish the quest. You will find you will also need a book which has inspired many an adventure like mine. Believe me when I tell you I'm truly hope to see you all soon. It will mean a successful end to this adventure... For all of us_." The screen went black.

"This guy's got pictures of us?" JJ asked in shock.

"He's clearly been stalking us, all of those pictures were from different crime scenes." Jessa shared.

"What do we do now?" Reid asked.

"Well, the lock of hair is being analysed for DNA." Hotch told them, "There might be something on file."

"I'll get video to enhance the shots of the girl." JJ said, standing and taking the disc from the player and exiting the room.

"Let's get the clues up on the board, maybe we can make sense of something."

"Wait, we're going to play this guy's game?" Jessa asked almost accusingly.

"Do we have a choice?" Reid answered.

"The kid's right." Morgan agreed, "The girl has to be our priority and this is the fastest way to find her."

Suddenly, Gideon fled the room.

"You guys keep working." Hotch said, getting up and following.

Jessa stared at the clues in front of her, rubbing her tired eyes. "A book." She said, "What book do we need?"

"It's got me beat." Morgan said, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his arms, "Kid?"

Reid just shook his head.

The three sat in silence for a few minutes until Hotch entered the room looking stressed.

"We've got another clue." He told them, pinning a large sheet of paper to the whiteboard. It was a list of number sets spaced out evenly across the page.

"Where did you get this?" Jessa asked.

"It was delivered to my house." He said.

"Haley and the baby ok?" Morgan asked.

Hotch just nodded, "It was delivered by messenger. Find out what it means." With that, he disappeared again.

Jessa stood up from the table and began to pace in front of the board in an attempt to stay awake.

"God, I am so damn tired that this isn't making any sense."

"I think it's a coded message of some sort." Reid said, getting up to get a closer look. "The unsub said we needed a book, right?"

"Yeah." Morgan answered, "'A book that inspired many an adventure'."

"It's a book code. Each one of these sets of numbers represents a particular word." Reid explained, "For instance, page one eighteen, line thirty, word three. We need to figure out what these words are and fill in the blanks."

"Yeah, but from what book?" Morgan asked.

"I don't know."

Jessa stared at the board, "The clues he gave us. They must point to a book."

"The trouble is that it has to be the exact same edition of the exact same book that he used."

"Just got a DNA hit off the lock of hair." JJ announced, walking back into the room, "Rebecca Bryant. She's been missing out of Boston for two years."

"Two years?" Jessa asked, "If he's had her for that long, why bring us in now?"

"I don't know." Reid answered.

JJ stuck Rebecca's image on the board.

Jessa sat back down at the table, folding her arms in front of her, and resting her chin on them.

"He said we have everything we need to complete the quest." Reid mused.

"Well, the answer is up there somewhere." Jessa yawned.

"JJ," Gideon stuck his head inside the room, "Get some reporters here as soon as possible."

"For what?" She asked him with a frown.

"Just say we need help on a new case."

"No way." Jessa got up and followed him into the hall, "Gideon we can't do that!"

"Why not?" He turned to face her, "Who says we can't?"

"He did!"

"And when do we ever play the unsub's games?"

"But this guy is dangerous! I mean, he killed two people just to get our attention! Who's to say he won't kill more if you hold this press conference!" She tried not to yell, but the exhaustion as taking over and she couldn't control her temper.

"Winchester." Hotch had stepped out from his office, and he gestured her inside. She followed him in, "I get that this is personal for you."

"Damn right it is!"

"It's personal for us all. How much sleep have you gotten in the last thirty-six hours? Be honest."

She sighed, "I don't know, maybe fifteen minutes."

"Alright. I'm sending you home."

"No, Hotch, I'm fine."

"No, you aren't. You spent most of last night in an interrogation room before flying straight back here and working this case. You are losing control of your temper, and I need you on top of your game if we want to catch this guy. Do you understand?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Yes, sir."

He got up from his desk and led her to the bullpen, "Anderson. Take Agent Winchester home."

She sighed, and went to her desk to grab her things before following the young agent out of the building.

As soon as they pulled up at her unit she climbed out and thanked him.

"Are you sure you don't need me to stay, Agent Winchester? I don't think Agent Hotchner will be happy with me if I just leave you here."

"I can take care of myself, Anderson."

He just nodded and pulled the car away.

Jessa unlocked her door and dumped her bags on the floor. Too tired to bother with anything else, she kicked off her shoes and crashed on the couch and was asleep before her head hit the cushions.

She wasn't sure how much later it was, but she woke with a start to find a gun pointed at her head.

"I told you," The man hissed, "There was one rule. One."

She sat up and stared at the man. She couldn't quite make out his face under the hood he was wearing, but she tried to drink in as many details as possible. "You don't call the shots." She told him defiantly. "We won't play into your sick games."

She glanced around for her weapon. She had her gun well out of reach on the table by the door and her switchblade in her back pocket. Neither weapon was easily accessible without risking this madman shooting her.

"One rule, Agent Winchester." He repeated.

"Stop with the games."

"Do you not consider that holding a press conference is going outside the team for help?" He roared. "One rule!" The gun began to shake in his hand as his anger took over. "I told you this was important!" Without any more warning, he pulled the trigger.

* * *

 **:O Jessa got shot!**

 **Next chapter's coming in a few days. Sit tight.**

 **Xoxo**


	17. Chapter 16

Jessa was sitting in the backseat of the Impala, allowing the familiar vibration of the engine and the soft classic rock from the old cassette's lull her to sleep.

"Jemmy?" She opened her eyes at the sound of John's voice.

"Are you tired sweetheart?" Her gaze turned to the passenger seat and she saw her mother's face. "We're almost there."

"Almost where?"

"Granny's place, duh." She turned to see a teenaged Dean sitting on the other side of the backseat, and ten year old Sam slept peacefully between them.

She glanced out the window as they passed a sign saying _Welcome to Normal, Illinios._ She glanced back to Dean. He was wearing a faded black Metallica tee with ripped jeans. He had a Walkman in his hands and the headphones hung around his neck.

"Why are we going to Granny's?"

Mary gave her a 'like you don't know' face and said, "Our annual summer holiday, silly."

John tapped the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song, a grin on his face. "It's alright, Jemmy. I'm sure Granny will have some ginger ale. I know you aren't very good with these long car trips."

She glanced out the window, suddenly feeling the nausea. "It's cold." She whispered. "Why is it so cold?"

"I'll turn the air off." John flicked a dial on the dash, but it didn't feel warmer.

" _Clear_!" Someone yelled and Jessa's eyes darted around, but no one had spoken.

The car pulled down a street and came to a stop in front of a modest home with a white picket fence. An older woman stood on the porch. She wore a long floral dress and her curly hair rested just below her shoulders. It could have been dark once, but now it was so white that it was hard to tell.

"Sammy." Mary reached from the front and gently shook Sam's shoulder to wake him. "Sammy, we're here."

Sam's eyes fluttered open and he grinned, almost pushing Dean out of the car to get out. Jessa climbed from her side and watched her little brother fling himself into the old woman's arms.

"Grandma Millie!" He yelled.

"It's so good to see you children." She grinned. Dean just nodded at her, and leaned up against the post. "Jemmy, dear, how is my favourite granddaughter?"

"I'm your only granddaughter." She mumbled, shivering.

"She isn't well, Ma." John explained, hugging his mother and pressing a kiss to her cheek, "You know how she gets after so long in the car."

"Of course. Well, come inside and we'll get some food into you. I just baked some muffins."

"Chocolate chip?" Sam asked.

"What else is there?" The old woman smiled.

"… _Or we'll lose her again. Permanently."_

The rest of her family entered the house, but Jessa hung back.

"Jessamine, what's wrong?" Mary asked, placing a hand on her daughter's cheek.

"This is wrong."

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Everything. Why are you here? Why am I here?"

"Here? Honey, this is our vacation."

"We never took a vacation."

"What are you talking about? Jessa, we come visit Grandma Millie every summer. Ever since you were born."

"No. No, we didn't. You died, and we never took a vacation."

"I'm right here." Mary told her sweetly.

"No you're not."

"Why would you say something like that?" She looked hurt.

"Because it's true." She took a step away, "I got shot. The man that we are trying to find, he shot me because we broke the rules."

The hurt disappeared from Mary's face.

"Did I die?"

"No, sweetie. You're fighting."

"I'm so tired, Mom."

"I know, sweet girl, I know. But you have to keep fighting. I'm not going to let my children die before they're supposed to."

A shrill beeping invaded her dream and she covered her ears to block it out.

"Keep fighting, Jessamine." Mary pressed, "I know that you are strong enough to fight this and win."

"I want to stay with you." Jessa whispered, feeling tears slip down her face.

"You can't. Not right now."

"When?"

"When it's time," She smiled, "I'll be waiting. I love you, Jemmy."

The cold disappeared, and it was replaced with an intense pain in her chest as she watched her dream—and her mother—melt away.

"There you are." A strange man was leaning over her. "Sleep. You're going to be fine."

She felt a stray tear slide down her face.

After another few minutes, she felt the pain ease and a fog fill her mind and she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When she woke, the fog was gone and she felt better rested than she had in a long time.

"You're awake." Derek said, sitting forward in the chair.

"Rebecca?" She asked.

"She's okay."

"Who was he?"

"Her father." He told her, "Her biological father. He was suffering from some kind of psychosis."

"Did you get him?"

Derek shook his head sadly, "He killed himself before we could."

She nodded.

"How are you feeling?"

"Just shiny." She answered, managing a smile, "I'll be back at work in no time."

"Do you remember what happened?" He asked, slipping his hand in hers.

"I was sleeping on the couch, then I woke up and he had a gun pointed at me." She shook her head, "After he shot me, nothing." She lied. She knew what happened next. He put his hands inside the wound in her chest, using the blood to write on the wall. She held her breath, so he would think she was dead, and when he left she pulled the landline from the wall and dialed 911.

"I was so scared." He whispered, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "I thought you were going to die and I was so scared."

"I'm okay." She caressed his cheek, "I'm going to be fine."

"I brought you some coffee." Penelope entered the room and Jessa immediately dropped her hand. "Jessa, you're awake!"

"I am."

"How do you feel?"

"My chest is a little sore, but other than that I'm fine."

"That is good to hear." She gave Derek one of the paper cups of coffee in her hand. "Hotch went back to your place. He got you some clothes."

"Thanks."

"Also," She went on, "You're phone has been ringing almost constantly, but when we answered it cut off."

"My phone? I switched that off. And put it in the drawer."

"Hotch said it was on the kitchen counter, and it was switched on."

"That son of a bitch went through my phone." She moaned, "Where is it?"

"Here." Derek handed it to her.

She opened it up and found twenty-six missed calls. Dialling the message bank, she pressed the phone to her ear.

"You have nine new messages." The computer generated voice told her.

" _Hey J, its Dean. We got a lead on the Demon. Just keeping you updated."_ There was a beep, before the next message played, " _Pastor Jim is dead, J. Dad's taken it hard. He thinks it could be the demon."_ Beep. " _J, me again. The Demon has dad."_ Beep. " _We're heading to Sioux Falls to see if Bobby can help us. Please call me back, J."_ Beep. " _Jessa, please call me back. Things are really bad and we could use your help."_ Beep. " _We have dad. We're safe. Call me."_ Beep. " _We're heading to Sioux Falls General Hospital. J, just call me please."_ Beep. " _I don't even know if you're getting these, J. but please—"_ The message was cut off by a horrendous crashing sound, then it beeped and the final message played, " _Jessa, it's Sam. There's been an accident. Please, please, call me because—"_ He paused, and Jessa could hear him sobbing, " _Jessa, the doctors don't think Dean's going to make it."_

Panic coursed through her and she shut off her phone and pulled the wires and tubes from her body, barely registering what she was doing.

"Jessa, what are you doing?" Derek tried to press her back down into the bed, but she fought him off. "You shouldn't be getting up."

"You don't tell me what to do." She hissed at him, tears filling her eyes.

"Jessa, what's wrong?"

She ignored his question and grabbed her bag, locking herself in the bathroom. When she was alone she breathed in only long, shaky breath and found herself curled in a ball sobbing on the floor.

"Jessa!" The pounding on the door turned into muffled background noise as her breathing became shallow and rapid.

She blinked her tears away and tried her best to regulate her breathing. After another few minutes she was able to pull herself to her feet and dress in jeans and a t-shirt before pulling on her favourite combat boots. It took another moment or two for her to completely compose herself, and when she did she exited the bathroom.

"Jessa, what's going on?" Derek asked again.

"I have to go."

"Go where?"

"That doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does!" He yelled, stepping in front of her to stop her walking away. "You almost died yesterday, Jessa. You were shot in the chest, and you nearly died."

"Really? I'd forgotten." She bit back sarcastically.

"Look, Penelope is getting your doctor. If you really don't want to be here that bad, then we can discuss discharging you."

"I don't have time for that." She stepped around him and rushed out the door.

She couldn't see him, but she knew he was following her. When she got out the front she realised that she had no way to get anywhere. She searched through her bag and thankfully found her wallet.

"Jessa, where are you going?"

She began walking toward the main street where she could hail a cab.

"Sioux Falls." She answered without looking back.

"Sioux Falls?"

"South Dakota."

"And how do you plan on getting there?"

"I don't know, I'll drive."

"Jessa, you have all sorts of drugs in your system. There's no way you can drive to South Dakota. That's almost twenty hours!"

"Then I'll fly."

"Jessa, just tell me what's going on!"

"It isn't any of your business."

"I want to help you, Jessa, but if you don't tell me what's going on I can't."

She whirled around to face him, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "This isn't something you can fix, Derek."

"Hey." His voice was soft now that he had stopped yelling. "What is it?"

"There was an accident." She said, the tears falling from her eyes. "Dean's dying."

"Shit, Jessa." He closed the remaining distance between them and wrapped her in a soothing hug as she sobbed. "It'll be okay. I'll go with you." He whispered into her hair.

She pulled away from him and shook her head. "I need to be with my family." Without another word, she turned and walked away.

* * *

Jessa took her bike, pushing it like she never had before, all the way to South Dakota. She rushed through the halls of the ICU at Sioux Falls General until she arrived at a nurse's station.

"Excuse me." She got the attention of the nurse behind the counter, "I'm looking for my family. They were brought in yesterday after a car accident."

"Jessa?" She turned around to see Sam standing behind her with a paper bag in his hand.

"Sammy!" She threw herself into his arms. He had a few scratches and bruises on his face, but other than that he looked alright. "Where's Dean?"

"He's in the room down the hall."

"And Dad?"

"A couple of rooms down."

He beckoned her toward Dean's room. She stopped dead in the doorway. Her twin brother, the person that always protected her, was lying in a hospital bed with tubes stuffed down his throat.

"Jessa, its okay."

"I wish people would stop saying that." She whispered as her breath caught in her throat like some invisible hand was wrapped around her neck, squeezing the life from her. Her helmet and jacket fell from her hands at the door.

"Jessa." Sam was trying to get her attention but she shook her head and took off running down the hall. She rounded a corner and ran clean into a man.

She tried to mumble an apology, but couldn't find her words.

"Jessa." The man spoke.

She looked up into his eyes, to see John. "Dad." She broke down, sobbing in his arms like a scared child.

"It's okay." He soothed, hugging her tighter. "I'm glad you're here."

"Dad, Dean. He—" She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"Have you seen him yet?"

She shook her head, "I couldn't."

"He needs you, Jessa."

"Sam said he was dying."

"When have you known Dean to stop fighting?" Despite the circumstances, John managed a smile. "He's never been as strong without his sister by his side."

"Dean never needed me."

"You and Dean were always an unstoppable force when you were together." He grinned, "Even as kids. I've watched you grow up, Jessa. You're family. Family is stronger together."

He led her back down the hall and they stopped outside of Dean's room.

"He's always needed you, Jessa. Now, he needs you more than ever."

She nodded, wiping her tears away. "Okay." It was little more than a whisper, but she stepped across the threshold and into the room.

She looked back at John, but he had already disappeared.

"Sam, can I have a moment?" Her little brother nodded and left her alone with her twin. She sat down at Dean's bedside. "Sorry I wasn't here earlier. I was in one of these places myself." She explained, feeling a little silly for taking to his comatose body. "You'll probably make fun of me for crying. You always do. 'No chick flick moments'. God, that was your favourite thing to say to me when we were younger." She chuckled and wiped her tears away. "The doctor says there's nothing more they can do for you, and that we should say our goodbyes. I'm not going to say that. That would be admitting defeat, and you are a stubborn son of a bitch. Always have been. I know you won't go without a fight, so fight Dean. Fight and stay here for me and for Sam and for Dad. We need you. We've always needed you." She laid her head down on his arm, clutching his hand like that was all he needed to tether him to life. After a long while there was a light knock at the door and she looked up to see Sam standing there.

"Mind if I come in?"

"Sure." She wiped her face and stood up from the chair, "I have to go talk to the doctor anyway."

She walked out of the room and walked straight up to the nurses' station.

"Excuse me." She said to the young woman sitting there. "Is there a doctor I could see?" She undid her jacket to reveal a patch of blood on her shirt. "I think I ripped my stitches."

"Oh my god! Of course." The nurse jumped up and led her to an empty room. "I'll get a doctor, I won't be long."

Minutes later she returned with an older woman in tow.

"I'm Doctor Matthews." She smiled. She would have been in her early forties, with dark hair piled on top of her head. "Monica tells me that you've opened a wound?"

Jessa nodded and shrugged out of her jacket, and pulled her shirt off. The bandage that covered her wound was soaked in blood, probably explaining her recent light-headedness.

"Can I ask what happened?"

"I got shot." She answered, "Turns out twenty hours on a bike a day later isn't the best idea."

"How did you get shot?"

"On the job. I'm an FBI Agent." She explained.

"Where are you based?" She asked in an obvious attempt to distract her as she peeled the bandage away.

"Quantico."

"What brings you here?"

"My family were in an accident, and, uh, my brother—it's not good."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Jessa winced as the doctor tried to clean the blood away. "But pushing yourself like this so soon after a major surgery isn't going to do any good."

Jessa just shrugged.

They were silent as Doctor Mathews finished off the stitching and covered it with fresh gauze and a clean bandage. "Please don't exert yourself too much. At least until this has healed properly."

"Thanks, Doc." Jessa pulled her shirt and jacket back on.

The nurse from before returned with an orange bottle of pills and handed them to her.

* * *

When she got back to Dean's room, Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed chatting about something in John's journal. Jessa smiled at him and took a seat on the chair by the bed.

"How are you feeling, Jessa?" He asked after a long silence.

"I almost died yesterday." She whispered.

"What?"

"We were working a case, and I got shot." She put her hand over her chest where the bullet wound was. It still hurt badly. "I ran away from the hospital when I got your message."

"I didn't know."

"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm fine, I'm alive, but Dean isn't."

"He will be." Sam whispered, "He'll fight."

"You know, I saw Mom?"

"What? When?"

"When I was dying. I had this dream. Dean and I were about fifteen, you were ten or eleven, and we were in the Impala." She smiled at the memory of the dream, "Mom was there, and we were going on vacation."

"Sounds nice."

"We went to visit Dad's mom."

"Grandma Millie died before we were born."

"I know, but in my dream we were going to see her as a family."

Sam smiled.

"But then I woke up, and everything hurt."

"Was it nice? Where you were, you know, your dream." He looked away awkwardly, "I want to believe that Dean is somewhere like that."

"It felt wrong. Mom kept telling me that I wasn't ready to be there." She looked back at her twin, "I just hope that she doesn't think its Dean's time yet."

They fell silent for a while, but then Sam spoke, "Dad found the thing that can kill the Demon."

"What?"

"It's a gun. A Colt. Legend says that it can kill anything."

"Legend? How can you be sure it will work?"

"I've seen it."

A small smile graced her lips, "It can really kill this thing?"

"It can."

The two siblings fell into a comfortable silence.

Minutes passed, then Dean's eyes shot open and he took a gasping breath in.

"Dean!" She and Sam both jumped to his side.

"Help!" Sam yelled out the door, "I need help!"

Seconds later, doctors and nurses rushed in and began fussing over Dean—removing the tubes and things.

They were ushered out of the room while the doctors did there thing. After a while they were allowed back in to speak with Dean's doctor.

"I can't explain it." He said, "The oedema's vanished. The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. You have some kind of angel watching over you."

"Thanks doc." Dean said and the doctor left them.

"How the hell did you get better like that?" Jessa asked when they were alone.

Dean shook his head, "There was a reaper after me."

"How'd you ditch it?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea." He said, "Only, there's a pit in my stomach, like something is wrong."

There was a knock at the door and the three of them turned to see John in the doorway.

"How are you feeling, Dean?"

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive." He turned to Jessa, "Were you speaking to me? When I was, you know, dying."

Jessa nodded, "I was, but it isn't important now."

"Where were you?" Sam asked John angrily.

"I had some things to take care of."

"Well, that's specific."

"Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I, I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?"

"Dad, are you alright?" Jessa asked, concern for him suddenly filling her.

"Yeah, yeah." He offered her a smile, "I'm just tired. Hey, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?"

"Yeah." She answered.

"I'll go." Sam cut in, not trusting himself to be in a room with his father without arguing. "Sit down Jessa."

She sent him a thank you smile before he left the room.

"Dad, what is it?" Dean asked when John's eyes filled with sadness as Sam walked away.

"You know, when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen, I'd be, I'd be wrecked. And you, you'd come up to me and you, you'd put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd... You'd say 'Its okay, Dad'." He paused, "I'm sorry, Dean. You shouldn't have had to say that to me, I should have been saying that to you. You know, I put, I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you." He turned to Jessa, "I'm sorry I drove you away. I never wanted that."

"Dad, what's going on?" Jessa asked.

"This whole thing has just given me a lot to think about." He said finally. "I've got something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out her favourite knife. It had been a birthday present when she turned fourteen and she had left it in the demon she fought in Chicago months ago. "It was left in me by the demon you left it in. Her idea of a game, i guess. I thought you would want it back."

"Thanks!" She slipped it into her boot.

He pressed a kiss to Jessa's cheek then put a hand on Dean's shoulder, "Take care of each other."

Without another word he left the room.

"Is it just me, or was that weird?" Dean asked.

"That was totally weird."

"Can you go ask him what's going on?"

"Yeah." Jessa walked out of the room and toward John's.

Her heart felt like it stopped beating when she got to John's room. Instead of being in his bed like Jessa thought he would be, he was sprawled on the ground next to it.

"Dad!" She rushed to his side, the pain in her chest worsening but not because of her wound. "I need some help in here!" She screamed. Tears poured down her cheeks and she pressed her fingers against his neck, feeling for a pulse. "Dad!"

Hands closed around her shoulder and she was pulled from the room as doctors and nurses rushed in.

"Jessa, what's going on?" Sam was beside her just as panicked as she was, the cup of coffee he got for John lay forgotten on the ground.

"I don't know, Sam." She sobbed, leaning against her brother for support. She felt his arm snake around her shoulders, hugging her close. "I don't know."

She watched in horror as the doctors stopped what they were doing and backed away from John's body.

"What—what are they doing?" She yelled, breaking free of Sam's embrace. "Help him! You have to save him!" She was hysterical as the reality of what was happening sank in.

"What is it?" Dean limped towards them, "What the hell is going on?"

"Dean—," Sam started, tears falling from his own eyes.

"No." Dean said, "No, no, no!" He leaned into the room as one of the doctors called 'time of death'.

"NO." Jessa shook her head and wiped the tears from her face as if it could change anything. She turned and rushed down the hall and away from the concerned shouts of her brothers.

When she got to her Hawk, the first thing she realised was that she forgot her helmet. She didn't care. She fired up the bike and sped away at full throttle. The warm wind whipped at her face and dried the fresh tears that were falling.

* * *

She rode and rode through the streets until she took a corner too fast and her bike spun out of control, throwing her from it. She stood up, dusting the dirt from her clothes and standing up the Hawk. She screamed and kicked at the dirt. Finally, she gave up and walked away.

She walked for a few blocks, letting the midday sun burn at the back of her neck. She walked until she came to a seedy little bar with a buzzing neon light informing her that they were open.

She pushed the door open and walked into the dingy pub, ignoring the very few other patrons drinking their problems away. She made her way to the bar and waved the bartender over.

"What'll it be, love?" She asked.

"Whiskey."

The middle-aged woman nodded and grabbed a bottle and poured a small amount into the glass she placed in front of her.

Jessa gratefully took the glass and stared at the amber liquid.

"Are you going to drink that, hun, or just stare at it all day?"

Jessa stared at her and downed the glass, motioning for another. She drank it and asked for another. She had five drinks under her belt, and when the bartender poured her a sixth she walked off to tend to another patron just as some old country song started playing on the jukebox.

The twang of the steel guitar cut through the smokey atmosphere of the bar and echoed the melancholy of Jessa's mood. She poured the alcohol down her throat and revelled in the warmth that spread through her body.

The bartender refilled her glass without her having to ask and she gave her a small nod in thanks. The lyrics of the song found their way into her mind and she was unable to block out the feelings that came with it. _Just in case I don't make it back have a beer for me, don't waste no tears on me,_ the singer sang, making Jessa's grip on the glass tighten. _Drive my Camaro 90 miles an hour down Red Rock Road with 'Born to Run' blastin' on the radio._ Jessa stood and pegged her still full glass at the jukebox, sending whiskey and shards of glass flying in every direction and causing all the other three patrons to look in her direction. Despite the destruction, the sad song continued to play.

"What the hell?!" The bartender yelled at her, "You have to leave."

She stared at the woman defiantly until someone slapped a few bills on the counter and dragged her from the room. When they were outside, Jessa looked up at the man that probably saved her from a vandalism charge.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, kiddo?" Bobby asked her. He had been her father's closest friend, until one day when Jessa was fifteen he chased them out with a shotgun after an argument with John. "Smashing a glass like that. Barbara woulda hit you with the baseball bat she keeps around the bar."

"Whatever." She walked away from him and towards her bike.

"You might want to head to the cemetery." He called after her.

* * *

Jessa pointed her bike toward the cemetery at the edge of town. She arrived just as Sam and Dean finished with the pyre, John's body wrapped and positioned on top of it. She stood next to them as Dean stepped forward and lit it, the orange of the flames matching the sunset behind them.

Jessa watched the flames consume her father for the longest time, accepting Dean's flask when he offered it. She stood there for the longest time with silent tears rolling down her cheeks, before she had enough and walked away. She reached the Impala and stopped, not knowing what she was going to do.

"Are you leaving?" Dean asked, silently approaching. She had been away from her brother so long that she forgot how good of a hunter he was.

"I was going to."

"But now?"

She turned to face him, any ounce of grief in her replaced with determination. "Let's get this yellow-eyed son of a bitch."

* * *

 **Man, I loved writing this chapter.**

 **For any of you that are wondering, the song playing at the bar was If I Don't Make It Back by Tracy Lawrence. Really amazing song that makes me cry every time. You should have a listen. Also, I believe I wrote 'old country song' but in actual fact the song was released in 2005 and this chap is set in 2006, so lets all pretend it was an old song back then :):):)**

 **So, i had written 20 chapters as of last update, then i went back and completely rewrote everything from this point forward so updates may or may not slow down, depending on how much I can get done in the next few days.**

 **Hope you enjoyed.**

 **Xoxo**


	18. Chapter 17

They spent a week at Bobby's. Dean did his best to repair the Impala and Jessa washed and polished her Hawk, over and over, before pulling it apart and putting it back together again, then polishing it again. By the time she had it back together for the final time, it was running better than it ever had.

"Isn't there always supposed to be a piece left over?" She turned to see Sam approaching with two beers in his hand, despite it being early morning. The Winchester siblings had been doing a lot of day drinking over the last seven days.

She gratefully took one, ignoring his comment. "Thanks."

He took a seat on the dirty workbench in the corner, watching her as she wiped down her beloved bike again. A buzzing sound cut through the small shed and Sam picked up her phone, reading the caller ID. "Derek Morgan." He said out loud, "Are you going to answer it?" She ignored him and eventually it went to message bank, displaying '35 missed calls' on the screen. The phone started ringing again, this time she picked up a nearby wrench and slammed the tool into the phone, cutting off the ringing and sending pieces flying. "You can't ignore your life forever, you know." Sam said when he had gotten over his shock at her outburst.

"I'm not."

"You are! Jessa, you're hiding out here instead of going back to your life!"

She whirled on him, her green eyes reflecting her anger, "And what about you, Sam? You had a life then your girl died then what? You walked away, so don't you dare judge me."

He seemed completely stunned for a moment before his expression softened and he mumbled an apology.

Not in the mood she set her beer down and climbed on the bike and sped off.

By the time she got back to Bobby's, hours later, both her brothers were sitting on the porch step waiting for her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, climbing down off her bike.

"Dad got a call." Sam answered, playing the message back.

 _John, its Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me._

"That's Ellen." She told them in confusion, "When was that?"

"Four months ago." Dean answered.

"Four months? No, Ellen hasn't spoken to Dad in years."

"How do you know that?" Sam asked her.

"She told me. I lived with her for years after I ran away."

"When was the last time you spoke to her?" Dean asked.

"Not for a while." She thought back, "Months."

"You want to give her a call? See what you can find out?"

Jessa shook her head.

"Why not?"

She glanced at Sam, then back at Dean. "My phone broke."

"Broke?" Dean sensed something under her words.

"It had a run in with a wrench. Anyway, the roadhouse isn't far."

Dean turned to his brother, "Ask Bobby if we can borrow one of his cars."

When Sam returned with the keys to the only spare car Bobby had running, Jessa couldn't contain her laughter. She laughed until her chest hurt and had to take one of her pain killers. The big rust bucket was a far cry from the sleek and shiny black of the Impala.

"You're soccer moms now?" She wheezed between fits of laughter, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Well, don't you laugh." Dean scolded, "You're coming too."

"I'm not going near that babe magnet." She giggled, "I have my Hawk."

Dean's frown only got deeper as he climbed behind the wheel. Sam loaded all their weapons, and Jessa climbed on her Hawk, motioning for them to follow her.

* * *

It was only a two hour drive to the Roadhouse, and Jessa felt strangely nostalgic as they climbed the steps to the door.

"It's locked." She told them, trying the handle, "I'll check round the back. Wait here."

She walked around the side and tried the back door, relieved when it fell open.

"Ellen?" She called, walking through the halls, "Jo?" No answer. She went toward the rooms and checked them. Still nothing. She came to a door that was labelled 'Dr. Badass' and knocked but there was no answer.

"Must be sleeping on the bar again." She groaned. Suddenly, she heard Dean cry out.

"Sam, a little help in here."

Rolling her eyes, she rushed into the main bar area to find Ellen and Jo holding each of her brothers at gunpoint.

"Jessa, your brother's an idiot." Jo told her.

"I told you two to wait outside." She scolded, then scoffed at Dean's bloody nose. "Nice one, Jo."

Jo grinned at her teacher, "I learned from the best."

She and Ellen both lowered their guns.

"What are you doing here, sweetie?" Ellen asked, stepping forward to wrap Jessa in a hug.

"You called Dad, a few months back. Said you could help." Jessa told her. "Help with what?" She leaned up against the table and Dean took a seat, pressing a rag to his bleeding face.

"The Demon, of course. Heard he was closing in on it."

"Who are you?" Sam asked, "I mean, how do you know about all this?"

"Hey, I just run a saloon." She smiled, "But, when a hunter comes through we point them in the right direction."

"Let me tell you, that was a lot easier with Jessa and her fancy degree around."

Both Sam and Dean looked at Jessa.

"You went to college?" Her twin asked with a little disbelief. She just nodded.

"She got a PhD while she was here. Didn't take her long, either." Ellen told them with a hint of pride.

"I had a lot of spare time." She glanced at Ellen, "How come you never told me you knew about the demon?"

"You were getting your life together." She cast a side glance at Jo, "Hunting is no life. You were out and the last thing I wanted was for you to get sucked back in."

"That wasn't your call."

"I'm sorry, Jessa. I just wanted you to have a life, instead of winding up dead on some dusty back road."

"This is my family, Ellen. I needed to know." She hadn't raised her voice, but her tone was pure anger—enough to make anyone shake in their boots.

"Once upon a time, John was like family to us, too." Ellen said.

"Then how come he's never mentioned you?" Dean countered.

"That's something you'll have to ask him."

All three Winchester's looked away, none of them wanting to be the ones that said it.

"So, why exactly do we need your help?"

"Dean." Jessa cautioned.

"Hey, don't do me any favours." Ellen snarled, "Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if—"

"Ellen." Jessa whispered, cutting her off. "Dad didn't send us." She couldn't bring herself to look at Ellen, fearing that she would break down again.

"He's alright, isn't he?" Her tone was hopeful, like she knew the answer but was trying to convince herself otherwise.

"No." Sam saved her from having to answer. "No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um," He was struggling to keep his composure, "It just got him before he could get it."

"I'm so sorry." Ellen breathed.

"It's okay. We're alright." Dean answered in a very unconvincing manner.

"Really? Because I know how close you and your dad were."

"Really, lady. I'm fine." Sam looked at his big brother concerned, but didn't say anything.

"We could use your help, Ellen. If your offer still stands." Jessa finished.

"Always, sweetie." She turned around and yelled, "Ash!"

Jessa hadn't seen him there, but Ash, who had until then been asleep on one of the pool tables, woke with a start and rolled onto the floor.

"What?" He yelled, disoriented, "It closin' time?" He looked around the room and his eyes came to rest on Jessa, "Long time no see, Winchester." He grinned.

"How you been, Ash?"

He shrugged.

"That's Ash?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"He's a genius." Jo told them.

"I'm going to put on some coffee." Ellen said, disappearing into the kitchen.

Jessa and the boys moved to the bar and Ash took a seat opposite them.

Dean stared at him sceptically before finally saying what he thought. "This guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie."

Ellen chuckled, returning with the coffee, "That's almost exactly what your sister said when she first met him." She set a mug in front of each of them.

"Which was when?" Sam asked.

"Ash first came to the roadhouse about five years after me." Jessa explained. "I made the mistake of trying to outsmart him."

"You should have seen it." Jo smiled, "She challenged him to like a knowledge test or something."

"There was no way she could win." Ash boasted.

"Alright, prove it." Dean put a folder in front of him. "This is about a year's worth of our dad's work, so uh, let's see what you can make of it."

Ash opened the folder and rifled through it for a moment before looking up at them, "Come on. This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody can track a demon like this."

"Our dad could." Sam told him.

"There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean... Damn!" He picked up one sheet of paper and looked at it, impressed. "They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms... You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun."

"Can you track it or not, Ash?" Jessa asked him.

"With this? Yeah. But it's going to take time."

"How long?" Dean asked.

Ash paused, adding things up in his head. "Fifty-one hours." He answered finally.

"Thank you." Jessa said and Ash packed up the folder and walked away.

"By the way," Dean called after him, "dig the haircut."

"All business up the front, party in the back." He grinned, then turned and walked away.

Jo chuckled, "You can't insult Ash. He won't take it."

"Hey, Ellen," Sam was staring at the far corner of the bar, "What's that?"

"The police scanner?" Jessa asked him, scoffing.

"We like to keep an eye on things." Ellen told him.

"No, next to it." He said, shooting Jessa a 'do you think I'm stupid' look.

Next to the scanner was a stack of papers and clippings inside of a manila folder. Ellen grabbed it, "I, uh, was gonna give this to a friend of mine. But take a look if you want." She set it down in front of him.

Sam started rifling through it, and Jessa peeked over his shoulder. 'Couple Murdered' was written across the front in red marker, below it 'child left alive'.

"A case?" Jessa asked.

"Apparently." Sam answered, leafing through the newspaper clippings. "Should we check it out?"

Jessa snatched a clipping from his hand and skimmed through it, "Medford's like a twelve hour drive!"

"We've got fifty-one hours to kill. There and back is barely half."

"We have to find the demon." She told him.

"Ash is on it. Jessa, we could sit on our hands and wait for fifty-one hours until he finds something, or we can do something and maybe save a few lives." His look was pleading.

"Fine." She conceded.

"Dean!" Sam called him over, "Check this out."

"Yeah?" He glanced at the file.

"A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt."

"Yeah. So?"

"We're going to Wisconsin." Jessa said with a fake grin.

* * *

It started raining, so Jessa climbed in the back of the minivan and lounged across the back seat.

A few hours into the drive, Sam began reading Dean the articles, with the help of a flashlight.

"According to the daughter's statement, it was a clown." Sam said.

"You've got to be kidding me. A killer clown?"

"Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually."

"And this family was at some carnival that night?"

"Right, right. The, uh," It took Sam a moment to find the name, "Cooper Carnivals."

"So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?"

"Well, the cops have no viable leas and all the employees were tearing down shop." He explained, "Alibies all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."

Dean started chuckling, "I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?"

"Oh, give me a break!"

That only made him laugh harder, "You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still bust out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television."

"Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying."

"Planes crash!" Dean snapped.

"And apparently, clowns kill!" Both brothers were silent for a moment before Sam glanced at Jessa in the backseat. "What do you think she's afraid of?"

"Nothing." Jessa answered, shocking them both. She had her feet up on the seat next to her and her head resting on the window with her eyes closed. She had intended to let the engine lull her to sleep, but the old minivan they were driving didn't hum like the Impala, it wheezed.

"I got it!" Dean exclaimed with a wicked grin, "Needles."

"Am not!"

"Yep. Needles. I remember." He was practically giddy as he recalled the memory. "We were fourteen and Dad gave you that knife of yours. You were so excited playing with it, and then you accidentally stabbed yourself."

"How do you accidentally stab yourself?" Sam cut in.

"Dean startled me."

"Anyway, Dad freaked out and took you to the hospital and you refused to let them give you a shot of local anaesthetic. You made them stitch you up with no form of painkillers."

Jessa smiled, "I was a kid, Dean." She didn't let him know that the thought of needles still freaked her out, he would never let her live it down. "Are you actually afraid of flying?"

"So these types of murders, they ever happen before?" Jessa and Sam both laughed when he changed the subject.

"1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus. Same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales."

"It's weird, though, I mean if it is a spirit it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know, a house or a town."

"Cursed object." Jessa mumbled.

"What?"

"It fits. The spirits bound itself to something the carnival carries with it. Something the Bunker Brothers Circus had in the eighties."

"Great." Sam said sarcastically, "Paranormal scavenger hunt."

"Well, this case was your idea." Dean moaned. "By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

"So?"

"It's just… not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt."

"I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."

"What Dad would have wanted?"

"Yeah. So?"

Jessa heard something in Dean's tone, so when he opened his mouth to reply she cut in, "Drop it, Dean."

He returned his eyes to the road.

* * *

It was late when they finally arrived and booked into a motel for the night.

"We gonna hit up the carnival in the morning?" Jessa asked, throwing herself down on one of the beds.

"Yeah. Figure it's the easiest place to start." Dean said, taking his gun apart on the table.

"Right." She took out her pill bottle and swallowed a couple of pain killers, "Don't bother waking me unless you have coffee."


	19. Chapter 18

**Ok, so I only have nineteen chapters written because i've hit a major block and my stupid brain won't break through it, so updates may not be as often from here on out. I am trying my best, and I promise you that updates will come even if it's a while. I'm also currently completely swamped in my personal life. I'm working, while looking for more work and also doing two qualifications online so this story isn't my first priority right now, but it's up there. I just hope you guys can bear with me.**

 **Anyway, enough of the boring stuff, story time.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

Not that she needed waking, she didn't really sleep these days anyway, but Sam brought her a coffee the next morning, and she changed and the three of them climbed into the minivan and headed to the carnival.

"Check it out. Five-oh." Dean nodded toward a trailer where two detectives were chatting with a couple of clowns. "I'll go check it out."

Dean climbed out of the car, but Sam just stared at the clowns suspiciously.

"Why are you so scared of them, anyway?"

Sam shook his head and stepped out of the car, and Jessa followed. "I don't know. I just am, I guess."

The pair hung around and waited for Dean.

"Another murder?" Jessa asked him when he approached.

"Two more last night. Apparently they were ripped to shreds, and they had a little bow with them."

"Who fingered a clown."

Both Jessa and Dean glanced at him with questioning looks for his poor choice of words.

"Yeah, a clown." Dean finally said, "Who apparently vanished into thin air."

"Looking for a cursed object is like looking for a needle in a haystack." Jessa commented pessimistically.

"More like a needle in a stack of needles." Sam added, "They could be anything."

"Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything."

"Oh good." Sam said sarcastically, "That's nice and inconspicuous."

"I guess we'll have to blend in." Dean smiled and pointed to a 'Help Wanted' sign.

"Hell no!" Jessa told him, "I did not come all the way here to work at a carnival. I'm an FBI Agent for god's sake!"

"You got a better idea?"

"Well… we could…" She trailed off, knowing Dean's idea was the most logical. "Fine." She snapped. "But I'm not going to be cleaning up garbage."

When they walked into Mr Cooper's office, he motioned for them to take a seat. There were two chairs by the desk, and one was shaped like a clown. Dean rushed for the regular one so Sam was stuck with the clown one. He chuckled at himself so Jessa smacked him upside the head.

"Grow up." She hissed, leaning against the window.

"You three picked a hell of a time to join up." Mr Cooper said, leaning back in his seat, "We've got all kinds of local trouble."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, playing clueless.

"A couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first."

"Got themselves murdered?" Jessa barked, "Somehow I don't think they asked for that."

"Jessa!" Dean cautioned her. He loved his sister, but sometimes she was just as hot headed as he was and now wasn't the time.

Mr Cooper ignored her, "You ever worked a circuit before?"

"Yes, sir." Sam answered, "Last year through Texas and Arkansas."

"Doing what? Ride jockeys? Butcher? ANS men?"

"Uh, um, well." Sam stammered.

"We were ring-ins." Jessa answered, lying flawlessly, "Bit of this, bit of that."

"Is that so?"

"It is so."

"Do you want to know what I think? I think you lot have never worked a show in your lives."

"Nope." Dean answered, "But we really need the work. And Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady." He smirked.

"Grow up, Dean." Jessa hissed again.

"See that picture?" Mr Cooper pointed to a black and white image in a gold frame, "That's my daddy."

"You look just like him." Sam said.

"He was in the business. Ran a freak show until they outlawed them most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess." He leant forward, clasping his hands in front of him, "You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you three? You should go to school. Find someone, have two point five kids. Live regular."

"Been there, done that." Jessa answered, sounding bored, "Ain't for us."

"Fine. If you're sure." Cooper sat up straight, "We could use a couple more people cleaning the place up."

Jessa groaned inwardly.

"But you, little lady, I could use you somewhere else." He told Jessa.

* * *

"I look ridiculous!" Jessa exclaimed, gesturing to the get-up Mr Cooper forced her into. She was wearing a black and red dress that barely covered her, and plunging neckline showed more cleavage than she was comfortable with.

"You do." Dean agreed.

"How the hell am I supposed to help you find this cursed object if all I'm doing is taking tickets at the gate?"

"Well," Sam started, holding back his laughter, "You could scout for potential victims?"

"Great." She gave him a large faux grin, "I'm the towel boy." She pulled at her hair so that it covered more of her exposed body and tugged at the frilly hem of the ridiculous 'uniform'.

"What are you three doing standing around?" Cooper approached the siblings, "You get to the gate, and you two get to cleaning."

Jessa spent the entire of the day taking ticket stubs and faking smiles. She was beyond glad when her shift ended, and she waited for the boys by the minivan.

"What've you got?" She asked them, glad she was back in her jeans and jacket.

"We're thinking less cursed object, more remains." Dean informed her.

"Remains?"

"The fake skeletons in the fun house." Sam explained, "What if they're not so fake?"

"Doesn't seem likely, but still worth checking out."

"We also think we got our next victims."

"Great, let's go."

* * *

They followed the family back to their house and sat in wait.

"Dude, I still can't believe you told the Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown." Jessa said, reclining back in the shotgun seat. They briefed her on the drive over.

"I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown." He corrected. "I never said it was real." Dean picked up his gun.

"Keep that down!" Sam yelled at him, reaching from the backseat to hide the weapon from view.

Dean rolled his eyes, "But get this, I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse and guess what?"

"What?" Sam and Jessa said in unison.

"Before Mr Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager."

"So you think whatever the spirit's attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?" Sam asked, a half smile appearing on his face.

"Something like that." Dean stared at the house, then looked back to his siblings, "I can't believe we keep talking about clowns."

"I can't believe we have to sit here until something comes to kill these people." Jessa sighed.

"I bet you did a lot of stake outs with the feds." Dean said to her.

"A few. Don't mean I like 'em." She rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes, "Wake me when something happens."

"No way. If we gotta do this, so do you." He poked her side until she sat back up.

"Fine."

They sat in wait for hours, and eventually the lights in the house turned off and the family went to sleep. It was another hour or two later that the dining room light turned back on.

"Lift off." Jessa muttered, grabbing a salt gun.

They watched as the little girl came to the front door and opened it, inviting the clown inside.

"Let's go." Dean told them.

As soon as the little girl was out of sight, the three of them climbed from the car and silently broke into the house, ready to go.

Not long later the girl and the clown rounded the corner where they were waiting. Jessa counted them down before she and Dean jumped round the corner, aiming their guns at the clown. It was then that Sam rushed in to get the girl out of harm's way.

As to be expected, the little girl started screaming as Jessa and Dean fired the salt rounds at the clown. Instead of disappearing, the clown just stumbled backwards, unfazed by the salt.

"Sam, watch out!" Jessa yelled as the clown jumped through the front door, shattering the glass, and disappeared.

A second later, the little girl's parents were there.

"What's going on here?" The dad yelled, bracing for a fight.

"Oh my god!" The mother screamed, "Get away from my daughter!"

"Who the hell are you?" The dad yelled at them, "Get out of my house! Get out!"

The three of them bolted, trying to put as much distance between them and the house before the family called the cops.

"I think it's time to ditch the minivan." Jessa panted when she was in the backseat. Her chest ached and she felt her pockets for her pills. "Shit!" She cursed, "Shit, shit, shit!"

"What?" Dean asked, panic creeping into his voice.

"I can't find my pills."

"So? We'll get you some more." He reasoned, speeding through the streets.

"Dean!" She snapped, "They have my name on them!"

"Shit!" He cursed, "Sam, they floating around the front?"

Sam frantically started searching the foot well. "I can't see them." He reached down under the seat, "Wait, I think I got 'em."

He tossed her the little yellow pill bottle.

"Cheers." She tipped a couple of pills into her mouth and swallowed them dry, longing for the moment they eased her pain.

"What kind of a spirit is immune to salt?" Dean asked, when he was sure they were far enough away.

"And you saw it, it didn't disappear." Sam added, "It turned invisible."

They drove for a while and Dean eventually parked the van on the side of the road, mostly hidden in trees.

They each grabbed their things, and Dean removed the plates and stuck them in his duffel.

"You really think they saw the plates?" Sam asked, flicking through John's journal as they walked.

"I don't want to take the chance." Dean answered, "Besides, I hate that friggin' thing."

"Is there anything in Dad's journal?" Jessa asked Sam, trying to glance at the pages and failing because of their height difference.

"Zip." He answered, flicking it closed.

"Give me your phone." She held out her hand to Sam.

"Why?"

"Because I don't have one."

Hesitantly, he put the phone in her hand, "Who are you calling?"

"Maybe Ellen or Ash know something that could help us." She said, keying in the familiar number of the roadhouse.

"Hey, do you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

"No!" Dean and Jessa answered at the same time, with equal amounts of disgust.

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"

"The way I understand it is they had some kind of falling out." Jessa answered, "Ellen doesn't like to talk about it."

"Do you ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?"

"It isn't a secret that Dad was hard to get along with, Sammy. You should know that."

Jessa kept glancing at Dean out of the corner of her eye, noting that he was tenser than he had been previously.

"What's up with you?" Sam asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this strong silent thing of yours. Its crap!"

"Oh god." Dean moaned, and Jessa slipped the phone into her pocket, knowing she was about to have to break up a fight. She wanted to let them be for a moment first, to see if they could sort it out themselves, before she had to intervene.

"I'm over it!" Sam went on, "This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man."

"You know what, back off, alright?" Dean yelled, stepping in front of Sam so they stopped walking. Despite the fact that Sam had nearly a foot on Dean, he still looked the more intimidating of the pair. It was something about Sam's posture that made him resemble a teddy bear. "Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to!"

"No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean!" Sam interrupted. "I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, alright? I just want to make sure you're okay."

Dean shook his head and continued walking, "Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him. And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you can't, it's too little, too late." He stopped walking again.

"Why are you saying this to me?" Sam asked, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this!" Dean roared, "I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?"

"Okay." Jessa stepped between the two wearing a furious expression, "Enough! Yes, Dad is dead, but arguing and fighting isn't going to change a damned thing!"

Both boys stared at each other with steely expressions.

"You both need to grow up." She snapped, walking off.

When Jessa put a little distance between them she relaxed and let her mind run through everything she knew about the case.

* * *

"Rakshasa." She exclaimed after half an hours walking. She turned back to the boys and repeated it so they could hear. "Rakshasa."

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"A race of ancient Hindu creatures. I don't remember a whole lot, most of what I know is in the books back at my place, but from what I _can_ remember they appear in human form and feed on human flesh. They can also make themselves invisible and cannot enter a home without first being invited."

"Which is why it's dressing as a clown." Dean said, "So the children invite it in."

"What else do you know?" Sam asked her.

"Not a whole lot. They live in squalor, sleep on a bed of dead insects or something."

"Nice." Dean scoffed.

"So why didn't it eat the kids?" Sam asked, "I mean, kill the parents, why not the kids too?"

"Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?" Dean tried, "I don't know, maybe it just don't like the taste."

"I don't think they need to feed all that often either, I don't know. It's been a long time since I read about them."

"Well, that would make sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81."

"And who do we know that worked both shows?" Jessa grinned.

"Cooper." Dean and Sam both answered.

"That picture of his father looked mighty like him."

"You thinking that was him?" Dean asked, to which Jessa nodded.

"I'm gonna give Ellen a call. See what she knows about 'em." Jessa pulled out Sam's phone and dialled.

"Harvelle's." Ellen answered.

"Ellen, its Jessa."

"How goes the Hunt, honey?"

"Making a little headway. Hey, what do you know about Rakshasa?"

"Not a whole lot. Why? Is that what you're dealing with?"

"We think so."

"Hang on, I'll give you to Ash. Maybe he knows something."

"Thanks Ellen." She waited while Ellen handed the phone to Ash.

"What can I do you for, Winchester?" Ash asked. She couldn't see him, but Jessa could imagine him reclined back in a chair with his computer in front of him and most likely a beer too, despite it being breakfast time.

"What can you tell me about Rakshasa?"

"I thought your fancy degree would have taught you that." He grinned.

"I know enough, but it's been a while."

"I bet it has." There was an underlying suggestion in his voice.

"Not gonna happen, Ash. Tell me what I need to know."

"Which is?"

"How do I kill it?" She asked with a roll of her eyes.

"That is a good question. Give me a moment." Jessa waited, impatiently humming as she walked. "A dagger of pure brass."

"Pure brass?" She asked with a scoff. "Brass can't be pure, dumbass, it's an alloy."

"Well then, smarty pants, the knife has to be all brass."

"Thanks Ash."

"Just know, my offer still stands."

"Never going to happen." She hung up the phone and handed it back to Sam. "Brass dagger." She told the boys.

"I know where we can get one." Dean said.

"Yeah, well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper," Sam started, working his logical mind, "We're gonna wanna make damn sure it's actually him."

"You're a stickler for details, Sammy." Dean said, and the siblings shared a grin.

* * *

 **Please feel free to leave reviews, criticism or otherwise will really help me work on through my writer's block.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Xoxo**


	20. Chapter 19

By the time they got back to the carnival it was dark.

"I'll go round up the blade, you two go see if Cooper's got bed bugs." Dean said, walking away.

"Alright." Sam and Jessa started towards Cooper's trailer. "I'll go in, you keep a lookout."

"Lookout?" Jessa asked him, "I'm not useless, you know."

"I know, but I still need a lookout."

"Fine." Jessa waited while Sam picked the lock and entered. "Lookout." She muttered disdainfully, walking around the trailer.

She rounded the last corner, almost back to where she started when she walked straight into the barrel of a shotgun.

"Shit." She cursed.

"That's right, little lady." Cooper said.

Before Jessa could open her mouth to call Sam, the butt of the gun slammed into her chest, sending her sprawling on the ground. The pain was crippling, and it completely knocked the wind out of her.

By the time she caught her breath back, Sam was there helping her to her feet.

"It's not Cooper." He said.

"Then who?" She said, wincing at the pain of her movement.

"No idea. I'm going to find Dean, you wait here."

"I'm fine, I'll come with."

"Jessa, you aren't fine." He pointed to her chest where blood was seeping through her top.

"Shit, not again."

"Sit down and wait for us." He walked her to a nearby bench and took out his phone, "Here. Call Dean if you think of anything, or if you need us."

She nodded and fished out her pills, taking a few of them. She waited anxiously, unable to keep still.

"You're bleeding." Mr Cooper came to sit down next to her. "I'm sorry about the whole hitting you thing."

"It's fine, old wound. We shouldn't have broken into your trailer."

"Why did you?"

"Research." She tried to keep her answer vague.

"For what?"

She thought back to what Dean had mentioned about the lie he told the blind guy. "My brothers and I, we write about the paranormal. We heard a legend about a phantom clown and I guess we just wanted to know if it had any merit."

Cooper laughed, "You're crazy."

Jessa smiled, "I guess you could say I am." She saw her brothers running toward her so she turned her full attention to Cooper, "Mr Cooper, I was wondering if you could get me some ice?" She touched her chest, "It's a little tender, is all."

"Sure." He disappeared just as Sam and Dean reached them.

"Well?" She asked.

"As it turns out, blind guy isn't so blind." Dean exclaimed, a hint of betrayal in his tone.

"It was him?"

Sam nodded, "Let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

It was a long bus ride back to Nebraska, but Jessa was grateful for the chance to rest. After a few hours resting got old, and by the time they got off just near the roadhouse she was stiff as anything. She almost giggled with happiness when she saw her Hawk, still sitting in the roadhouse lot.

"Man, I hope you boys enjoy the bus back to Sioux Falls." She grinned, walking backwards to gloat as she pushed open the door to the roadhouse.

The first thing that hit her as wrong was the silence inside. There was no low murmuring of hunters, or the sounds of knives being sharpened or guns being cleaned, just the quiet melody from the jukebox. The second thing was the way the boys stiffened as soon as they stepped across the threshold, Dean all but stepping in front of her in a protective stance. Jessa turned around, her eyes scanning the room until they came to rest on the suit sitting at the bar. The very familiar suit.

The few hunters in the roadhouse looked to be extremely uncomfortable, as did Ellen. She was wiping a portion of the bar and eyeing him suspiciously.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, annoyed and more than a little confused.

"Looking for you, actually." Hotch stood to face her. "You took off from the hospital. I wanted to know if you were okay."

"Hospital?" Ellen asked, concerned, "Jessa, what the hell were you doing in a hospital?"

"Nothing, I'm fine." She said to her.

"Fine?" Hotch said, "Jessa, you got shot!"

"Shot?" Ellen exclaimed.

"Ellen, its fine." Jessa assured her, giving her boss a look.

"Fine? You got shot and you didn't care to tell me?"

"Because you would only worry!" She gave Hotch another look and walked back out the front door away from prying ears. "What are you really doing here, Hotch?"

"I want to make sure you're okay." He told her softly. "You wouldn't answer your phone."

"It broke. And I'm fine."

"Morgan told me why you ran off from the hospital."

"It wasn't his place to tell."

"He's worried about you. We all are."

"You don't have to be." She crossed her arms over her chest and leant against her bike. "I'm fine."

"Are you really, Jessa?" He asked, almost accusingly, "Because you were shot—"

"And I nearly died, I get it." She finished.

"No, Jessa, you _did_ die!" He yelled, "You died, and it was my fault. I okayed the press conference and I sent you home. You got shot because of me!" When the words were out of his mouth his anger evaporated and he looked guilt ridden.

"What do you want me to say?" She snapped, tears forming in her eyes. "That I'm not okay? That every single time I close my eyes I see his face, and I see the gun pointed at me? That every time I relax, I can feel his hand inside of my chest? What do you want from me Hotch? I lost everything. I lost my home, I lost my dad; I've got nothing." The tears were falling down her face and she felt like she had to punch something.

"I didn't know about your dad. Jessa, I'm sorry."

"Because it's nobody's business."

"But you haven't lost everything." He took a step closer, his face softening, "I've been sitting in there for hours getting a lecture about making sure you're okay from the woman behind the bar. She cares about you, Jessa. She loves you. I saw two brothers get mighty protective over you as soon as they saw me, and I've been seeing five people back home worried out of their minds for you. You may have lost your father, and your home, but you haven't lost everything. Far from it."

She looked away, trying to hide the tears that fell harder and harder as she lost control of her emotions. Swiftly, Hotch took a step toward her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him as she broke down completely.

When her tears slowed, Jessa suddenly felt extremely embarrassed. She pulled back and wiped her face, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. At all." He reached out and pushed a tear soaked strand of hair out of her face, "It's okay to be upset."

"Thanks." She whispered, walking to the steps and taking a seat.

"Are you going to come back? To Virginia?" Hotch asked, taking a seat next to her.

"I don't know." She answered honestly. "I mean, we came here the other day looking for answers and we ended up in Wisconsin." She chuckled.

Hotch joined in her laughter, "What were you doing in Wisconsin."

"We went to the circus." She mentioned with a small laugh.

"The circus?" She nodded, "You drove twelve hours to a circus?"

"I guess it sounds more ridiculous if you say it out loud."

"It does sound a little ridiculous." Hotch agreed.

"It's not like we set out intending to go to a circus in Wisconsin."

He chuckled, "Did you have a good time?"

Jessa smiled at his attempt at normal conversation, "Not really. I mean, it took my mind off everything for a little while but as soon as it was over it was like I got hit with a freight train. Like everything that faded away for that little while came back with a vengeance."

"What does that mean for you?"

"I had fun, but my heart wasn't there." They were both silent for the longest time as the sun started to set.

"Where was your heart?"

She sighed, working out how to answer his question. "I'll come back, Hotch. I will." She turned her body so she could look him in the eye, "I just don't know when. I can't leave my family right now, not while we still have a job to do."

"Family doesn't end with blood, Jessa." He put a hand on her knee, "The team, we're your family too. I'm not saying this to try and drag you away from your family here. I'm saying this so you know that when you choose to come back, you know that we're all there for you."

"Thank you." She nudged him with her shoulder, "Means a lot."

They sat in comfortable silence for a long time. Eventually the sun set completely and the parking lot filled with bikes and rusty old cars, but still they sat there.

"I'm kinda glad you came." She whispered, not making eye contact.

"I'm glad I came, too." Hotch replied.

He looked down at his hands, then back at her. Jessa realised how close they were sitting, but neither of them made an effort to move. That was until, slowly, Hotch lowered his face to hers, meeting her lips for a light kiss.

Jessa was stunned at first, but far from in a bad way. As soon as she registered what was happening enough to kiss him back, he pulled away slightly. She scooted slightly closer to him, letting him know it was okay.

Hotch deepened the kiss, moving one hand to her waist and bringing up the other to cup her face. She kissed him back, not knowing until that moment that she wanted it. Just as suddenly as it began, it ended. Hotch leapt to his feet and took a big step backward looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He stared at her for a moment before mumbling an apology and fleeing into a nearby car, leaving Jessa confused and a little breathless.

She didn't know how long she sat there for, watching the horizon long after his tail lights disappeared, but eventually she made her way back into the roadhouse.

"You were out there a while." Ellen commented, filling a customer's glass full of beer. "Customers were startin' to get wary of the suit camped out of the front steps."

"Sorry." She apologised.

"Don't apologise." She sent Jessa a knowing smile, "Who was he anyway? He certainly seemed adamant to see you. Sat there for hours waiting."

"He's my boss."

"I won't judge if he was more." She grinned, "He was fine."

"Oh, okay." Jessa chuckled, "Can you point me in the direction of my brothers?"

"Over there in the corner." She nodded to the corner table where the boys were laughing about something over a couple drinks. "And Jessa?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for over reacting before. I know that whether you're hunting monsters or bad guys you're always going to get hurt. I understand that, I just worry."

"I know you do, and I love you for it."

Ellen nodded, and gestured for her to go and drink with her brothers.

Jessa made her way over there, but was intercepted by Jo.

"Hey, who was the suit? He looked serious."

"It's nothing, Jo. Talk later, okay?"

"Oh, oh, okay. Fine. Yeah."

She sat herself down in the spare seat at Sam and Dean's table.

"About time." Dean commented. "Who was that guy anyway? Looks like a jackass." The last part was muttered, and Jessa pretended she didn't hear it.

"Hotch. My boss." She answered taking the spare glass and half filling it with whiskey from the bottle on the table.

"What'd he want?" Sam asked, with a lot less irritation than Dean.

"Just wanted to know when I'd be back in Virginia."

"Which is when?"

"I don't know."

"You were out there an awful long time for that short of an answer." Dean bit.

"We were talking, if it's any of your business." She downed the contents of her glass. "I don't need this." She poured herself another drink, "What'd Ash say about the demon?"

"It's gone." Sam said.

"Gone? What do you mean by gone?"

"Do you know what gone means, J?" Dean asked her, "It's nowhere."

"But when it pops up again, Ash'll let us know." Sam added.

"Great. What do we do until then?"

"You go back to Virginia to work, we wait for Ash to call." Dean told her.

"Go back to work?" She exclaimed, "I'm not going anywhere until that damned demon is dead!"

"J, that demon isn't anywhere on earth. We can't kill it if it's nowhere."

"Jessa," Sam said, a little softer than Dean had, "We just have to wait until it comes back, and when it does the three of us, we'll kill it."

"Whatever." She downed the contents of her glass and walked off to her room.

* * *

She stood in the shower under the steady spray of water until it turned cold. By the time she climbed into the familiar bed, she was exhausted enough to sleep through the night.

Jessa woke in the morning feeling like she had been hit by a bus, despite having slept through the night for the first time since she was shot. Everything from the last week was finally catching up with her.

"Morning, honey." Ellen greeted when she stumbled out into the bar.

"Morning." She mumbled.

Jo grinned and slid a mug of hot coffee along the table to the spare seat where Jessa sat down.

"Where are the boys?" She asked after taking a long sip, choking down the bitter taste of the instant coffee.

"They took off early this morning." Ellen explained, "They tried to wait, but there was only one bus running through."

She nodded, understanding. "I'll give them a call later."

"What about you? When are you heading back to Virginia?" Jo asked, hoping she would stay a little longer.

"I don't know." She answered, "I think I need some time away."

"The boys left a bag for you." Ellen pointed to the worn green duffel by the door.

Jessa grabbed it, and pulled the zipper open. The bag contained a handful of flannel tops, a shotgun with a few spare salt rounds, a handgun with a number of extra clips of silver bullets, and a small flask of holy water. She smiled. Dean always knew what she needed, even if she didn't know it herself.

"They also left this." Ellen handed her a slip of paper.

In the centre, in Dean's distinctive scrawl, was an address in Lincoln.

"I think it's time I head off." She said with a small smile.

She rushed to her room and grabbed her helmet and duffel before returning to the bar to say goodbye to Ellen and Jo.

"You call if you need anything, won't you?" Ellen told her sternly.

"Of course."

"And call if you don't need anything." Jo added, "Just call."

"I will." She hugged each of them before climbing on her bike and speeding off.

* * *

The ride was exactly what she needed. The wind whipping and stinging her face blew away her troubled as he concentrated on the blacktop, letting the needle of the speedometer push the Hawk's limits.

She stopped at a gas station just outside of Lincoln to refuel and get her bearings. She hadn't spent a whole lot of time there when she lived at the Roadhouse, but she knew enough to know that the address her brother's left her was in the warehouse district.

The address was the junction of Wabash and Lake, and when she arrived she saw what they were directing her to. John's truck was parked, collecting dust on the roadside. She slowly made her way over to it, checking it for outward signs of damage. She found the keys still in the ignition, despite it being parked there for god knows how long. It took a while, but she eventually got her Hawk into the back, the effort and strain causing her chest to ache. She took a couple of pills and began her thorough search of John's vehicle. Every hunter had a cache of weapons, it was just a matter of finding her father's. She eventually found it, in the tool drawers below the tray.

John had collected a vast array of weapons and various other knick-knacks that would be useful for hunting. She added to the hoard the few weapons that Dean had given her, before slipping one of John's nicer blades into her belt.

The large truck roared to life beneath her and she pointed it down the road, not even caring what direction she was headed.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm posting this now because after many many different attempts (and by many, i mean I have at least eight different variations saved to my computer), i have finally written a Chapter 20 that i'm happy with! Yay! I'm currently working on more so hopefully updates don't slow down too much.**

 **Hope you enjoyed.**

 **Xoxo**


	21. Chapter 20

Jessa took the scenic route home, and it took her four months longer than expected. She followed hunts and omens, killing what she came across and searching for the demon. Occasionally she would call the Roadhouse and get updates from Ash, and potential cases from Ellen. She called her brother's too, though not nearly as often. Last she checked up they were in Mississippi.

Her time alone had done her the world of good, and by the time she got back to Virginia she was feeling better than ever.

She pulled to a stop out the front of her unit, and just stared at the locked door. She couldn't bring herself to get out of the car and go inside. After a long mental debate, she finally told herself she was being stupid and climbed out of the truck.

When Jessa stepped through the door the first thing she noticed was the faint red tinge to the previously white wall and the absence of her couch. She hovered in the doorway for a moment before walking any further. She made it to her bedroom before the panic set in. She grabbed the gun she kept in the drawer of the nightstand and stuffed it in the waistband of her jeans before grabbing an empty bag and stuffing it full of belongings. Before long she had her things piled into the back of the truck and she was sitting behind the wheel with the doors locked, fending off a panic attack.

When she got her breathing in check, she fired up the truck and headed into town, hoping she could get herself booked into a motel despite the late hour.

Jessa tried four different motels before she found one with vacancies. When she pushed the door to her room open, she could see why. It was unclean, even for a hunter. The duvet was covered in questionable stains, and she was sure that the sheets looked like they were white once upon a time. The carpet was bald in spots, and the linoleum was faded and peeling to reveal a stained and chipped concrete floor.

With a heavy sigh, she dumped her bags and threw herself down on the threadbare couch. She flicked threw the limited free-to-air channels on the old TV before switching it off. After another few minutes she got up and flicked the light off, but found herself unable to get comfortable. The springs pressed into her back as she tossed and turned, eventually falling into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Jessa drifted in and out of consciousness until the early hours of the morning when she gave up and went for a run. She ran through the light rain until her legs ached and her chest burned, then she ran a few more miles before returning to the motel.

She climbed into the grimy shower and stood under the intermittent spray of cool water washing away her sweat and anxiety. After a few minutes she climbed out and dressed herself ready for her first day back at work.

The motel was considerably closer to Quantico than her unit, so she ended up arriving for work a lot earlier than anticipated. She took a seat in the empty bullpen and on her desk sat her gun and badge. She clipped the gun to her belt and felt a sense of contentment when she slipped her badge into her pocket.

"We weren't expecting you back until Monday." She spun around when she heard a voice behind her, startled.

"Hotch, I didn't hear you come up." She gave him a small smile.

"It's been a while."

"Four months."

"You look good." He smiled, "Your hair looks different."

She chuckled, running her fingers through her hair. She had run into some trouble on a hunt in Georgia, about a month previous, and her hair ended up getting badly singed. As a result, a foot of blonde locks had to be cut off. It now fell just below her shoulders in soft waves. "Thanks."

"How do you feel? I mean, you've been away for a while."

"Better than I have in a long while. Thank you for asking."

"I should get back to work." He told her after a short silence, "The others should be in soon."

He walked away, and Jessa had barely sat down when she heard a voice behind her, "If it isn't Dr Winchester."

She turned around to face Spencer Reid, "Come on now, Reid, you know I don't like to be called that."

"We've missed you around here."

"To tell you the truth, I've kinda missed being here."

"I'm glad you're back."

"Thanks, Spencer."

She sat back down at her desk, at a loss for what to do because she had no paperwork. She was saved, however, when the elevator doors opened and JJ and Morgan stepped out.

"Look what we have here." JJ tutted, perching herself on the side of her desk, "Someone decided to grace us with her presence." She took in Jessa's significantly shorter hair, "Woah, you look good."

"Thanks, JJ. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"Enjoy your vacation, Bright Eyes?" Morgan asked, tossing his things down on his desk and sitting down gracelessly in the chair.

"I'd hardly call it a vacation." She said, leaning backwards in her chair, balancing precariously on the back wheels, "I'm pretty sure they call it sick leave."

"How does it feel to be back?" JJ asked.

"Depends."

"On?"

"Do we have a case?"

"Not unless one came across my desk since I left last night."

"Ugh." She tossed her head back in frustration. "I've been here like ten minutes and I'm bored out of my mind without anything to do."

"I'm happy to split my paperwork with you." Morgan put in with a smirk.

"Not that bored."

"Come on, Bright Eyes. Help me out."

"Not going to do your paperwork, Morgan." She told him, leaning her seat forward.

"You're no fun."

"So be it."

"Well." JJ stood, "I should go get some work done. Hopefully find something to cure your boredom, Jessa."

"You're a legend, JJ."

"I know." She smiled, sauntering away.

* * *

It was over an hour that Jessa spent sitting at her desk before she lost it.

"Ugh! I can't do this anymore!" She exclaimed, standing up so fast that her chair scooted backwards. "I'm going to go see if JJ has a case."

She made her way up to JJ's office and almost ran into her walking out of Hotch's office.

"Grab the others." JJ told her, "We have a case."

"We've got us a case." She called down to Reid and Morgan in the bullpen before turning to walk back to the briefing room.

When they were all there, JJ started. "Montgomery, Alabama. Last month, school teacher Sally-Ann Scott was found dead in a local park early yesterday morning. She was ripped apart and her heart was missing. Yesterday, local florist Meghan Bennett was also found dead. Same MO, torn apart, missing heart."

Jessa froze then flipped through her file in a panic, desperately searching for any evidence to challenge her thoughts. The images of the bodies were gruesome, to say the least. They had been ripped open and all their insides were spilling out onto the ground under them. Their throats were also slashed, and they had claw marks over almost all their flesh.

"How are we sure this isn't an animal attack?" Morgan asked.

"Because these were carved into a tree near the body." JJ pressed a button and two images appeared on the screen side by side. Messages had been carved into the trees: _Help me_ , at the first crime scene and _Stop me,_ at the second.

"There's a lot of rage for someone that doesn't want to kill." Gideon provided.

"That means he's been driven by a delusion." Reid said, "Which makes him more dangerous because he believes that he has to kill."

"There's a lot of rage in this. What was the COD?"

"The bodies were too damaged for the ME to make determine."

"Wheels up in thirty." Hotch declared.

* * *

Jessa tried and failed to get into contact with her brothers on the plane, all the while cursing them for the unpredictability of their lives.

"Everything okay, Bright Eyes?" Morgan asked after a few minutes of watching her play nervously with her phone.

"Dean won't answer his phone." She stared at the screen, "It's probably nothing. He's probably just busy."

"You don't sound convinced."

"I'm trying to be."

"It's okay to be worried, it's family. And after what you went through a few months ago, it's expected."

"They can take care of themselves, but—"

"Doesn't stop you worrying." He finished for her.

"Yeah."

"They'll be fine."

"I'm going to try and call Sam." She got up and made her way to the end of the plane where there would be less chance of being overheard.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang, and she was about to hang up when his voice came through the line.

"Sam! Thank god!"

"Jessie? What's up?"

"Jessie?"

"Sorry. Jessa."

"Don't be." A smile spread across her face when he used the nickname he gave her as a child.

"What's going on?"

"I've been trying to get through to Dean."

"Sorry, we've been on a job."

"I might have another one for you."

"Where?"

"Alabama."

"We're almost two days drive away. Sorry."

"You're fine. I'll call the Roadhouse, see if they know of anyone in the area."

"Call Bobby, too. He has connections with plenty of other Hunters."

"Winchester." Hotch beckoned her over.

"I have to go. Thanks Sammy."

"Take care."

She hung up and sat back in her seat.

"When we get to Montgomery, Winchester and Reid go see the ME and see what you can find out about the bodies, Morgan and Gideon go to the latest crime scene and JJ and I will get set up at the station." Hotch ordered.

* * *

The ME, Dr Mason was a well-dressed gentleman, with a lot of white hair—he reminded Jessa of Colonel Sanders.

"What've you got for us, Doc?" Jessa asked him.

He pulled out a body drawer and pulled back the white sheet that covered the body. Body was almost a strong word—remains described what she saw. Her head was caved in at the back, and her throat had been all but ripped out. Her arms and legs had been clawed to pieces and her torso was all but ripped in two. In a box by her were her insides.

"They had been torn from the body." Dr Mason explained, lifting the lid, "Liver and stomach were shredded, the heart was missing, but the rest of her insides had been carefully cut from the body."

"Talk about overkill." Reid murmured.

"What did this?" Jessa asked.

"It's hard to tell with this level of damage. I mean, there isn't a clean stab wound which suggests an animal, but if you look closely at the torn flesh it's too clean around the edges which suggests a blade of some description." He told them.

"You said the heart was missing?"

"Yes. That appeared to have been ripped out. All of her ribs have been crushed."

"He ripped out her heart?"

"Whoever did this was strong." Mason summarised. "I've never seen anything like this."

"Thanks for your time, Doc."

The two agents left, but neither of them spoke until they got back to the SUV.

"That was gross." Reid said, climbing into the passenger side.

"It was incredibly violent." Jessa added, "But what doesn't make any sense is the message. That level of overkill, plus remorse."

"Yeah, that doesn't make any sense."

"Unless multiple personalities come into play."

"Multiple personality disorder?"

"Think about it, one personality is killing, the other is trying to stop it." They drove through the busy streets in silence, until Jessa pulled to a stop in front of the police station. "You never told me what you think?" She said as they walked.

"About what?"

"My theory."

"About the split personalities?"

"No, about Santa Clause." She bit sarcastically, "Yes about the split personalities."

"It has some merit, but Dissociative Identity Disorder is extremely rare and highly unlikely. It's far more probable that its multiple unsubs."

Jessa nodded, agreeing that it _sounded_ more plausible but knowing better.

* * *

 **Okay, so about time I posted another chapter. But guess what! Yesterday I spent the day at a con in Melbourne (Where I now live) where I met Richard Speight Jr, Matt Cohen, Rob Benedict and Mark Pellegrino. It was super exciting because I had never been to a Supernatural con before and now I'm going to go to them all! Anyways, the next chapter should be up on... it's Monday now so lets say Wednesday or Thursday.**

 **Hope you enjoyed.**

 **Xoxo**


	22. Chapter 21

Everyone agreed that multiple unsubs was the most logical explanation, and began to form the profile based on that hypothesis. Jessa spent the time thinking through her own theories. Knowing what she knew, she knew that the most likely possibility was a werewolf. She did call the roadhouse, and Bobby, but their answers were similar to Sam's: There was no one else near.

It was the next morning that they found the next body. In a park, torn to pieces, heart missing but this time the message read _Kill me_. When they got to the crime scene, they found someone else already looking it over.

"Excuse me." Hotch approached the woman. She was young, possibly younger than Jessa, with shoulder length black hair and piercing blue eyes. Her stance said military, or law enforcement, and she carried a gun at her hip. She was wearing tight leather pants and a black tank paired with dark aviators and Jessa could just see the knife poking out of her combat boots, giving her away. "This is a crime scene; you can't be here."

"Locals let me through." She answered him, barely looking away from the body.

"Who are you?" Hotch's tone was more forceful than it previously had been.

The mystery woman didn't speak, just handed him a business card.

"P.I?"

"That's what the card says."

"Why are you at my crime scene?"

"I figured this was Montgomery PD's crime scene. It is in their city." She looked up from the body for the first time, and took in the six Agents that stood before her. "But clearly the Feds are here now." Her tone was slightly mocking as she noted how official they all looked.

"You didn't answer my question, Miss Moriarty." He used the name on the card.

"I was hired."

"By who?"

"A family in Birmingham. One of their daughters was killed, like this, a couple months back, the other went missing. I've been following the bodies ever since."

"How many?" Jessa asked, earning a harsh glare from Hotch.

"Including this one, four. This is the first time he's killed twice in one month though."

"What do you mean?"

"Stand down, Winchester." Hotch cautioned, but the P.I ignored him and continued to address Jessa.

"Body in Birmingham two months back, body here last month, the one two days ago, and now today." She counted them on her fingers. "He's killed one a month since Birmingham, as far as I can tell none before that."

"Agent Morgan will escort you from the scene." Hotch told her, "If I see you back here I will arrest you. Are we clear?" His tone was icier than Jessa had ever heard from him.

"Crystal, Hoover." She mock grinned, then followed Morgan back behind the tape.

Jessa watched as she walked to an old pickup and drove off.

"What was that, Winchester?" Hotch whirled on her as soon as the P.I was gone, the others taking it as their cue to get to work.

"What was what? Hotch, she's working the same case we are. And now we know more!"

"The word of some P.I! It's nothing. We don't even know if it's the same killer."

"Then let me follow it up." She said simply, "Find out."

He considered it for a moment before sighing deeply. "Fine. But next time I give you an order I expect it to be followed." Then, he added through gritted teeth, "Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." She answered quietly, refusing to meet his eye.

* * *

As soon as Hotch allowed her to leave the crime scene she tried to track down the P.I. She first tried the cheapest motel in town, and threatened the bored young girl behind the counter until she gave up a room booked under Irene Adler.

Jessa knocked, and discovered the room to be empty, so she picked the lock and went in. She found pretty much what she expected from a Hunter's room: there were newspaper clippings and images tacked to the walls, and an old bag stuffed under the bed which Jessa assumed was full of clothes and weapons.

She spent a while searching for a file, and eventually found it hidden in a cupboard in the small kitchenette. She spread it out on the table as she went through it.

Jessa had to give the other Hunter credit, the file was detailed and organised. Eventually, after almost an hour, she heard the lock click as a key was inserted into it. Jessa didn't flinch when the door was pushed open, nor when she heard the click of a gun at her head.

"How did you get in here?" She asked, pressing the barrel of the pistol against Jessa's head.

Jessa had her back to the door so the P.I couldn't see her face, otherwise she would have recognised her from the crime scene. "All access pass." She tapped her finger on her credentials that were sitting next to her on the table.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jessa watched the woman pick them up and read them. "You're the Fed from earlier." She stated, not lowering her gun.

"Does this mean you're going to take your gun from my head?"

Slowly, she lowered the weapon and Jessa stood to face her. "Agent Jessa Winchester." She held out her hand for the P.I to shake, but she just eyed her cautiously. "You got a name?"

"Alex." She handed Jessa a business card that read _Alex Moriarty Investigative Services_ followed by a number.

"Sherlock Holmes? What's your real name?"

"Gibson." She answered distrustfully.

"What are you really doing here, Alex Gibson?"

"I told your lot before."

"No, you told them a lie. Which, by the way, wasn't a good idea. But don't worry, they bought it."

"Who are you really?"

Jessa ran her fingers through her hair, making sure that her charm bracelet was visible to the other Hunter. "Same as you." Alex's eyes grew wider when she realised what Jessa was saying, "So, I'm going to ask you again, and this time I expect the truth: What are you doing here, Alex?"

"I'm guessing this means you know what killed the chick in the park today, huh?"

"Good guess." Jessa gestured to the file, "And you've done some solid research. How long have you been Hunting?"

"Two years. I was a cop before that."

"So you think that this girl is our werewolf?" She picked up an image of a young blonde girl.

"Abigail Sweet, seventeen. Disappeared from her home in Birmingham in September after her little sister was killed. She was thirteen."

"You think that Abigail killed her sister, then took off?"

"She was turned in September, so Kaley was probably her first kill. I was in Birmingham investigating a series of murders, found the 'wolf, killed him, but not before he turned Abby."

"How do you know it isn't another werewolf killing here?"

"Call it intuition." Alex answered, scrolling through her phone and selecting a photo, "And this." The photo was a teenaged girl's room, but blood covered the walls and rug. Jessa studied the photo until she saw what Alex meant: not far from where she presumed the body was, _sorry_ was scrawled in blood on the floorboards.

"There were messages at every crime scene." Jessa pointed out. "Sorry, help me, stop me, and now kill me. She clearly doesn't want to kill."

"Doesn't change the fact that she has, and will keep doing so. Got any gear?"

Jessa lifted the leg of her pants to reveal her knife strapped to her ankle, "Just my silver knife."

"Is that all?"

Jessa nodded, "I'm a Federal Agent. I can't bring a stack of illegal weapons everywhere."

"I haven't got much." She led Jessa to her old pickup and pulled a large tool box from the back. Alex twisted the dial on the padlock until it clicked open. Inside were various weapons—and she was right, there wasn't much.

"How many silver bullets do you have?"

"A couple clips. But I've only got the one gun

Her phone chimed, and she pulled it out to reveal a text from Hotch claiming that another body had been found. "I have to go. Call me if you get anything." Jessa pulled her own card out of her pocket and gave it to Alex.

"Likewise."

Climbing into the Government Issue SUV, she pulled out her phone and dialled Garcia.

"You've reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI's Office of Supreme Genius." The analyst answered.

"I need any information on a murder in Birmingham in September."

"My favourite kind." She sighed, "Gimme what you know."

"Kaley Sweet, fourteen, and the disappearance of her sister, Abigail Sweet, seventeen, the same day."

"Got it. I'll fax it through to the station."

"You're a goddess."

"Honey, tell me something I don't know."

Jessa hung up and headed to the address Hotch gave her.

* * *

The body wasn't far from the first, hidden away in the trees behind a public restroom. He was in worse shape than the other bodies, having his limbs ripped completely from his body.

"Clearly there's more rage in this one than the others." Gideon pointed out.

"But the change in victim type doesn't make any sense." Morgan agreed, "With unsubs this violent it's rare that they stray from their target types. I mean, the two vics were both in their late twenties with dark hair, he has a type, so why this victim?"

"What if one of the unsubs was a woman?" Jessa provided.

"What evidence do you have to support that theory?" Hotch asked her.

"I went back and spoke to the P.I. Fourteen-year-old Kaley Sweet was murdered in September in Birmingham, her older sister, Abby went missing the same night. What if the unsub killed Kaley, then kidnapped Abby, and she's the one leaving the messages?"

"There's also no message at this scene." Reid observed.

"Who's the vic?"

"According to his ID, Darrel Griffin." Morgan told her.

"Criminal record?"

"I'll call Garcia."

A few minutes later, he snapped his phone shut and returned to the group. "He's got quite the rap sheet. Just got out of prison for sexual assault."

"So, he tries to hurt Abby and gets killed for it." Jessa supplied as a theory, "Explains the extra rage."

"But it doesn't explain the footprints." A uniform walked up to them.

"Footprints?" Gideon asked him.

"Only one set. We've had the crime scene guys sweep the area a few times. There's definitely only one set."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jessa spied Alex standing at the crime scene tape, but unfortunately Hotch saw her too.

"What is she doing here?" He asked no one in particular.

"I'll deal with it." Jessa told him, walking over to the younger Hunter. "What are you doing here, Alex? I told you I'd call you if I had anything."

She shrugged, "I heard it on the police scanner. I didn't realise the feds were already on it."

"My boss wasn't joking when he said he'd arrest you if he saw you here."

"What do you know?"

"Pervert ripped apart. It seems he tried to attack Abby, there's no note here either."

"That's easy, she's not sorry that she killed him." Alex shot back quickly, "Why should she be?"

"You have to leave. I'll let you know what we get from the scene."

By the time she walked back to the group, Alex had disappeared.

"…Extremely rare. Less than one percent of the population suffers from it." She walked in on the tail end of a spiel from Reid.

"It makes sense. Multiple personalities." Hotch said, "One personality commits the crime, the other feels remorse."

"Also explains the messages." JJ said.

"Are we really thinking that a seventeen-year-old girl could have done this?" Morgan asked—ever the sceptic.

"The different personalities are their own person." Reid told them, "They can have their own age, sex, and/or race that differs from the person. So it is entirely possible that these murders were committed by a seventeen-year-old girl, especially if she's suffering from personal trauma—if we do believe that she killed her sister."

Jessa bit back her response about the extra strength of a werewolf, and paid attention to her phone that had just chimed.

It was a message from Alex: _Full moon's tonight, Fed. Get your act together, last chance._

* * *

 ** _So I said Wednesday or Thursday, and I still have ninety minutes until it's Friday. I did try to post this yesterday, then again earlier today but honestly I have barely slept in the last week and i've also got my courses plus the stress of looking for a new job- I just really haven't been myself. But I am trying._**

 ** _Anyway, hope you liked._**

 ** _Xoxo_**


	23. Chapter 22

**Okay, I'm really sorry this took so long but this was quite hard to write. I'm going to take a bit of a break from writing this because I'm visiting my family for the Christmas period so the next chapter probably won't be up until late January/early February.**

 **I hope you enjoy this.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

Hotch had Garcia combing through security footage looking for any evidence of Abby Sweet. As much as Jessa needed to find her by nightfall, she almost didn't want Garcia to find anything so she wouldn't have to explain anything. They had set up a tip line, and currently they were chasing down three leads that sounded promising. Jessa and Hotch followed a possible sighting at a clothing store, but after looking through the store's footage they realised it was a false alarm.

They were just pulling back up at the station when Garcia called.

"Penelope, what's up?" Jessa answered.

"You know how earlier you asked about a murder in Birmingham a couple of months ago?"

"I recall." She set the phone on speaker as they got to the conference room.

"Yeah, well I set up a search to find out anything and everything I could and I got something."

"What is it?"

"I put her photo through a program to see if any street cams picked her up there around the time of the murder."

"And?"

"I have something, from the night of the murder, but it's a little curious."

"Send it through." Jessa motioned to Hotch to bring up the footage. "Thanks, Pen."

"Watch it before you thank me."

Jessa turned to the screen where the footage was up. Hotch hit play, and Penelope was right: For someone that didn't know what was going on, the footage was curious.

It was a carpark, just outside of a public park and it showed two figures, one that was obviously Abby, the other was a man Jessa had never seen before. A jogger came toward the pair and the man lunged at her, clawing at her. In another second, a fourth figure entered the frame and fired two shots at the man before Abby bolted.

"What the hell?" Hotch dragged the footage back to the start and watched it over.

"Told you it was curious. I got an image of our mystery shooter, I'm trying to clear it up enough for facial recognition."

Hotch stared intently at the screen and paused it on the frame where the jogger entered. Jessa froze when she saw what he had noticed. Slowly, he zoomed in on the screen.

"What is that?" he asked.

Jessa shrugged. It was the man, the image wasn't clear, but there was no denying that the man had fangs.

"It's weird right! Fangs! It's like something out of those novels." Penelope told them.

"We'll call you back." Jessa told her, snapping her phone shut.

Almost as soon as she slipped her phone into her pocket, it rang again.

"Winchester." She answered.

"It's me." Alex told her, sounding a little excited, "Can you meet me?"

"Where?"

"My motel room."

"Give me a sec." She hung up and turned back to Hotch, "I have to go."

"Go?"

"I'll be back." She made a move to walk away, but he stepped in front of her.

"Where are you going?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You aren't going anywhere. Not while we're trying to catch a killer."

"I'll be an hour tops." She stepped around him but was stopped again by him grabbing her arm.

"What is going on, Winchester."

She was saved from answering when her phone rang. However, Hotch grabbed it from her hand before she could answer it.

"Who's A.G?" He asked, reading the caller ID. She didn't say anything, so he flipped it open.

"Why the hell did you hang up on me for." Alex asked as soon as the call connected. "Can you meet me? We've got to end this sucker."

Hotch ended the call, "Was that the P.I?"

Jessa's silence answered the question.

"What was she talking about, 'end this sucker'?"

She groaned inwardly, there was no way she could lie this away—but she tried anyway. "I don't know."

"Do not lie to me, Agent Winchester." He seethed.

Damn. She pulled her arm free of his grip and walked through the station. Hotch followed her and but neither of them spoke until they got to one of the cars.

"Where are you going?" He asked, not even trying to hide his anger.

"Look, you can try and stop me, but I'm going to go with or without you." She climbed behind the wheel and within a second Hotch was in the shotgun seat.

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know you, Winchester, but right now I'm not so sure. I'm worried for you."

"You don't need to be. I know what I'm doing."

"You're talking about killing a girl!"

"She's not a 'girl'. Not anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why did you come?" She ignored his question.

"What?"

"Why did you come with me?"

"To stop you doing something stupid." He answered.

"If you're so scared of me, then why did you get in the car? For all you know I'm suffering some kind of PTSD."

"I said I was worried for you, not that I was scared of you."

She didn't say anything else, and the rest of the drive was silent.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to set when they arrived at Motel 6, where Alex was staying.

"What are we doing here?" Hotch asked her as they climbed out of the SUV.

"Visiting a friend?"

"The P.I?" He didn't bother hiding his contempt.

Jessa ignored his comment and walked toward Alex's room. She didn't bother knocking, just pushed the door open and walked inside.

However, as soon as Hotch entered he pulled out his gun and trained it on Alex. Jessa didn't have to ask him why, it probably had everything to do with the teenaged girl that was tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

"Please, please." The girl whimpered, "Please kill me."

"Put your gun down, Hotch." Jessa told him.

"You brought your boss?!" Alex all but shouted.

"I didn't have a whole lot of choice." Jessa replied, "And why the hell do you have her tied to the chair?"

"I need to make sure she's the one." She answered, "I've been burned before."

Jessa stepped in front of the girl, and knelt down so she was at her height, "What's your name?"

"Kill me." She answered, looking at Jessa with tears in her eyes, "I'm a monster, please kill me."

"We can help you." Hotch said, finally lowering his gun, "You don't need to die, we can help you."

"Hotch." Jessa shook her head at him then turned back to the girl, "You're Abby, right?"

She nodded.

"Okay, Abby, do you know what happened?"

"Oh god!" She sobbed, "I killed them."

"Do you remember what happened to you in Birmingham a couple of months back?"

Abby paused for the longest time, "She killed Drew." She shot an angry look at Alex.

"Who was Drew?"

"He was my boyfriend."

"He was the monster that turned her." Alex said, "Andrew Lockwell."

"He was helping me!"

"Abby, did he turn you?"

"Turn?" Hotch asked.

She nodded, still crying, "He didn't mean to."

"Did you kill your sister?"

"It was an accident!" She sobbed, "I was going to go tell her goodbye but then I turned and I didn't mean to! I loved Kaley."

"I know you did." Jessa told her softly.

"Are you going to kill me?" There was a spark of hope in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Abby."

"Don't be." She smiled, "I killed those people. I deserve it."

"Winchester." Hotch snapped, "A word."

Jessa got up and walked to the little kitchenette, just out of earshot of Abby.

"What the hell are you planning on doing?" He asked her, fixing her with his typical stern glare.

"We're gonna kill her." Alex answered for her.

"I can't let that happen."

"You're gonna to have to, Hoover."

"Alex." Jessa cautioned, "Hotch, she has to die."

"No she doesn't! She's a seventeen-year-old girl who needs our help."

"She's beyond help now."

"How is that for you to decide!" He roared, "Since when do you have the power to make that decision?"

"Since she isn't human!" Jessa yelled back. "Look, I've been doing this my whole life. I know what has to be done." She turned back to the room only to notice the chair was empty, and the ropes that bound Abby severed.

"Where the hell is she?" Alex exclaimed.

"She must have turned."

"Yeah, and snuck off while the two of you were yelling!"

"This isn't my fault, Alex. We just need to track her down again."

"Before she kills someone else."

"Where would she go?"

"I could call Garcia. See if she can get a hit off street cams." Hotch suggested, pulling out his phone.

"No, don't." Jessa put her hand on his to stop him, "It's easier if we keep the rest of the team out of this."

"He's right." Alex said quietly, "I mean we've got to find her before she kills again."

"Fine." Jessa moved her hand so Hotch could make the call.

"Garcia." Hotch said after a couple of moments, "I need you to see if you can find our unsub."

"I've got my program searching for her as we speak." She answered.

"Narrow down the search. She just took off from Motel 6."

"Ooh, that helps."

"Get her to run the name Andrew Lockwell." Jessa whispered, "Montgomery has to mean something to her or him."

Hotch nodded, "Garcia, what do you have for an Andrew Lockwell?"

"Andrew Lockwell?" There was a pause while she looked it up, "Nothing. I mean, other than a death certificate dated in September. No criminal record. One hell of a medical record though. He's been in and out of the ER his whole life."

"Does he have property or family in Montgomery?"

"There is a cabin on the outskirts of town under the name Robert Lockwell, Andrew's father. He was killed a year ago, number one suspect was his son but he disappeared.

"Send me that address."

"Already done."

"Thanks Garcia." He hung up and turned back to Jessa, "We've got an address."

* * *

It wasn't very far to the cabin, but Jessa wasn't holding out hope. "She's not in her right mind. I doubt she'll even remember about this place." She told Hotch.

"Whether she's in her right mind or not, she knows we're closing in. She'll be here." They climbed out of the SUV. He cabin was small and decrepit, it barely looked habitable.

Hotch pulled his gun out, but Jessa didn't bother with hers. They didn't turn away from the shack when they heard Alex's truck roll out but Jessa was glad when the hunter arrived with a weapon that would actually be useful.

She was hypervigilant without her weapon and when she heard a sound in the trees she sank into a crouch and retrieved her silver knife. The next moment, everything moved in slow motion. One moment Jessa was low to the ground surveying the area, the next moment Abby shot from the tree, and Hotch fired at her as she grabbed Alex and slashed her claws across her throat. Jessa lunged at where Alex's still body hit the ground and grasped the gun loaded with sliver. She fired at the werewolf, hitting her, but not in the heart.

Jessa felt a sting as Abby's claws made contact with her face before she turned on Hotch, who kept shooting despite realising that his bullets had no effect. Abby lunged at him and Jessa reacted on instinct. She fired one shot and watched Abby fall to the ground.

"What the hell was that?" Hotch asked, but Jessa wasn't listening. She hurried to Alex's side, desperately feeling her neck for a pulse.

She was vaguely aware of blood trickling down her face but she ignored it as she felt a faint flutter under her fingertips.

"Alex?" She asked, hope trickling into her voice, as the hunter's eyes fluttered open. Jessa used her hands to cover the wound on her neck in a vain attempt to slow the bleeding. She could hear Hotch behind them calling for an ambulance as sirens approached.

"She dead?" Alex whispered weakly.

"Yeah, we got her."

"Good." Her eyes closed and Jessa frantically tried to wake her.

"Come on, Alex."

Her eyes slowly opened again as her hands weakly moved to her pockets and she produced a folded piece of paper. She opened her mouth to say something but her eyes fluttered closed again and this time they didn't open.

"Alex?" Jessa shouted, knowing that there was no use.

"Jessa." She felt Hotch's light touch on her shoulder, "There's nothing you can do for her now."

"Yeah." She whispered numbly, taking her hands from Alex's neck.

Jessa sat in the grass fighting back tears as she stared at the hunter's body. She noticed the paper, still clutched in Alex's lifeless hand and she reached out and took it. Unfolding it she realised it was a photo. Trying not to cover it in blood, she stared at the image. It was Alex, grinning into the camera holding a child that looked to be about two. The little boy had the same dark hair and brilliant eyes, but his smile was different to Alex's.

"What's that?" Hotch asked.

"She has a son." Jessa whispered, tears filling her eyes. She felt Hotch sit down next to her.

"It wasn't your fault."

"Then whose was it?"

"No one's fault. Sometimes things happen." Jessa slipped the photo back into Alex's hand and wiped her own bloody ones on her pants. The pair were silent for a while before Hotch spoke again, "What happened today?"

"The things," She started, staring straight ahead into the dark, "that you read about—monsters—they're all real." Jessa didn't turn to him to gauge his reaction; she knew he was a rational man and what he had seen was undeniable proof. "I'm not crazy, or psychotic or anything. I know that's what you were thinking back at the motel. I would never hurt an innocent person, but Abby was a werewolf."

"Werewolf?"

"Only way to kill one is with silver, which is why your gun was useless."

He opened his mouth to speak but the sirens got closer and suddenly headlights lit up the area as the dark SUV's pulled to a stop and the rest of the team climbed out.

"What happened?" Gideon asked.

Jessa and Hotch both climbed to their feet.

"We got a lead." Hotch explained. "P.I beat us to it."

Jessa stared back at Alex's body. "It's done now."

"Are you okay?" Reid asked taking a step toward her, "You're bleeding."

She touched a hand to the side of her face, "So I am."

Morgan moved to Abby's body to check for her pulse, then to Alex's. A moment later the ambulance pulled up, followed by local PD.

* * *

It was in the early hours of the morning when they were in the plane heading home, and Jessa sat silently staring out the window at the blackness. She paramedics checked her up at the scene, cleaning and dressing her wounds after determining they didn't need stitches. As soon as they returned to the motel Jessa locked herself in the bathroom and scrubbed and scrubbed at her hands until they were raw, only then was she satisfied that she had removed every drop of Alex's blood.

"Are you alright?" Hotch took a seat opposite her.

"She was a cop." She said instead of answering.

"Who was?"

"Alex. She was a cop in New York until a couple of years ago when her husband and son were killed in a mugging. She quit her job, sold her house and none of her friends saw her again." She looked at him, "I spoke to Garcia. I don't think it was a mugging."

"Why do you say that?"

"A perfectly ordinary person with a job and a family doesn't just pack up her life for no reason. It takes something unexplainable."

"How do you know about all that stuff?" He asked her after a long silence.

"My dad. It's how I was raised."

"How do you cope with the knowledge of it all?"

"It's all I've ever known." She looked away from the window, "It helps to have a mission."

"What's your mission?" His eyes were full of genuine curiosity.

"My Mom. She was killed when I was a kid."

"What killed her?"

"That's in my file."

"The file says house fire."

"A demon. My dad was hunting it for over twenty years before it killed him."

"That's not very healthy."

"You do what you have to do for family." She answered.

"What are you going to put in your report?"

"We followed a lead, she attacked and I acted appropriately."

"What if there's an investigation?"

"We can make it go away. It's not like I haven't done it before."

"You've done it before? How?"

"Strauss. When we were attacked in the parking lot she doctored the report to account for the inconsistencies."

"What—?"

"Demon. It was looking for my dad."

"Your life is one big horror story isn't it." He managed a half-hearted smile.

"I guess you could say it is, yeah."


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N: I'm back with a new chapter! Yay! I hope you enjoy this one and the next one should be along in a week.**

 **Xoxo**

A lot happened in such a short amount of time. The unsub entered the house and Jessa took a deep breath before getting the okay to return. Slowly she drove the car back to the house where they had set up the sting. She pulled the sensible hybrid into the driveway of the single storey red brick house and paused to steel herself before climbing from the car and grabbing the purse like a lifeline. The purse contained her gun because Hotch and Gideon gave her strict instructions not to have it on her body, but she felt bare and vulnerable. Jessa wouldn't let her hands shake as she inserted the key into the lock and twisted it. She entered the house and walked into the kitchen where she set down her bag and took a deep breath as she pressed the flashing button on the answering machine and tried to drown out the creepy voice on the machine warning her about what she knew was going to happen.

It didn't take long. Her hand rested on the purse as one arm wrapped around her waist while another covered her mouth. Jessa brought one elbow straight down into his stomach with every ounce of strength she could muster from her non-dominant arm, while the other grasped her gun securely. She slammed her foot down on his and hit him again with her elbow before he relinquished his grip. Jessa spun around so she was facing him as the room lit up and the other agents entered. Jessa's gun was trained on him, unwavering, as light left his eyes when he realised what was happening.

"On your knees." Jessa spat at him, "Hands on your head."

Their unsub obliged and Hotch stepped forward and cuffed him.

She watched as Lee was escorted from the house, frozen in place.

"Are you okay?" Morgan was in front of her, concern etched in his features.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She asked, not unkindly.

"I know this couldn't have been easy for you."

"It wouldn't have been easy for anyone." She dismissed him and walked out of the house.

* * *

Jessa didn't speak again until they were on the plane home. This time it was JJ who was concerned.

"You've been weirdly quiet." She told her friend.

"Nothing to say, is all." Jessa replied with a smile.

"You did good today." JJ told her, "He's in jail because of you."

"Thanks."

The pair lapsed into silence for the remainder of the trip.

* * *

"This had to have brought things back for you." Morgan said, jogging to catch up with her as they left the FBI building.

"Things?"

"Yeah. I mean, you were attacked—almost raped. Doing what you did tonight couldn't have been easy."

Jessa stopped walking. She hadn't forgotten that she'd told him, that was a part of she had only ever shared with one person, but she hadn't realised he remembered. "It was a long time ago, Morgan. I'm over it."

"You didn't seem over it."

Jessa sighed, she had frozen at one point while they were wiring her for the mission and Morgan had been adamant that she wasn't ready for it—but Gideon had insisted that they needed her. They'd even dyed her hair a light shade of brown so she would better fit his victim type. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

He looked like he didn't believe her, but he dropped it anyway.

"I forgot my gloves. I'll see you tomorrow." She left him standing there as she jogged back to the elevator.

Her gloves were sitting atop her desk and she grabbed them and walked back through the deserted bullpen.

"Are you still here?" Hotch asked.

Jessa had all but fallen asleep while she stood waiting for the lift, and was quite startled when her boss spoke from behind her.

"You startled me." She told him, "and I could ask you the same thing."

"I'm the boss. What's your excuse?"

"Forgot my gloves." She yawned, stepping into the lift as the doors slid open. She hit the parking button and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes.

"You did well tonight." Hotch spoke after a few moments silence.

"Thanks." She answered without opening her eyes. The doors chimed open and she pushed herself off the wall and stepped into the parking garage.

"Jessa?"

"Hm?" She turned around to face him.

"I'll drive you home. You're in no state to drive."

"I'm fine." She shrugged off his concern.

"You're asleep on your feet, come on."

She shook her head. As tempted as she was to accept his offer, she didn't want him to know that she still couldn't bear to enter her unit. It wasn't her unit anymore. Her brothers had come to town a few weeks back and packed it up for her, but she had yet to find enough time to find a new place so she was still living in the motel. It wasn't a pleasant place to stay, but it was a place and she wasn't there much anyway.

"I'm fine, Hotch. But thank you anyway."

Hotch knew he shouldn't let her walk away, but he did. He watched her get on her Hawk and ride off.

Jessa wasn't far from the motel when it happened. When she realised it was happening it was too late. All she saw was the blinding light of the headlights as the car careered into her.

* * *

Hotch dialled Jessa's number again and again. He was sitting at his desk knowing that she should be here for the day, but she wasn't.

Worry began to set in as he noticed one of the junior agents escorting two uniforms toward his door. He beckoned them in after the agent knocked.

He quickly left after they were let in.

"Agent Hotchner?" One of them asked. Her was a bulky man, possibly in his late thirties, and wore a sour expression that Hotch couldn't help but assume was permanent.

"Yes?" The other officer—a weedy looking twenty-something—looked down at the floor. His pristine uniform screamed rookie. "What's going on?"

"I'm Officer Kane, this here is Officer Tanner." The bigger officer introduced them. "We were called to the scene of an accident in the early hours of this morning."

Hotch's heart stopped when he said the words.

"It seems a vehicle hit a motorcyclist. The victim was an FBI Special Agent. We found her credentials: Jessamine Winchester. You are listed as her emergency contact."

Hotch stared at them for the longest time, words failing him.

Officer Kane seemed to read his face because he added, "She was in a bad way when paramedics arrived and was rushed to the hospital."

It took him less than a second to move. He grabbed his jacket and keys and pushed past them out of his office.

"Agent Hotchner," The officers fell into step behind him as he marched toward the elevator, "We're here to escort you to the hospital." Kane stepped in front of him as he pounded the elevator button.

"I don't need it." He growled.

"Agent Hotchner, you aren't in a state to drive." Tanner spoke for the first time, "We're going to drive you."

Grudgingly, he obliged and the two officers drove him to the hospital.

"I'm looking for a Jessamine Winchester." He said to the young girl at the front counter. "She was brought in last night."

The girl typed something into the computer before directing him to a room in the ICU. He all but ran to where he was directed, panic coursing through him. When he reached the room number that the girl had told him, it was like there was an invisible wall stopping him in his tracks.

The strong woman he knew was nowhere to be seen, instead a small, frail woman lay in her place. Her vibrant green eyes were closed and most of her body was bandaged, stitched or encased in plaster. Blood still streaked her now-brown hair and the beeping machines let him know that her body couldn't perform its most basic functions.

"Are you Aaron Hotchner?" A short woman appeared at his side. She was dressed in bloody scrubs and wore a white lab coat informing him that her name was Dr Abraham.

Hotch just nodded, not taking his eyes from the bed.

"I'm Dr Abraham, I've been caring for Miss Winchester." She looked up at him.

"What happened to her?" He whispered.

"She was involved in an accident. We've had her in surgery for the last few hours, but we were unable to repair all the damage. Right now, we're waiting to see if she can survive the next couple of hours. If she does, we may be able to take her back and see if we can repair the rest of her injuries but I have to be honest with you, it isn't looking good."

Hotch barely took in the words, but he heard enough. Jessa probably wouldn't survive the day.

"Does she have any family I could call?" Dr Abraham asked him.

"Brothers." Hotch forced his voice to work, "I'll call them."

"Okay." She took a step back to leave him alone, although he remained in the doorway.

After a few minutes he stepped into the room, hesitantly as though any movement could break her. He sank down into the seat by her bed and put his head in his hands to fight off the threatening tears. Eventually, when he had composed himself enough, he grabbed the small bag of her things that rested on a nearby shelf. Fishing out her phone, he hit speed dial one.

It rang a few times before it connected. "Hey, J." Dean greeted. "I was actually going to call you. Sammy and I just finished up a case in North Carolina and we don't have another lined up so we figured we would swing by and hang out for a few days. We were just going to grab a couple hours' sleep. Should be there by tonight."

Hotch paused before he spoke, completely unsure of what to say. "Dean Winchester?"

"Who's this? Why do you have my sister's phone?" The other man demanded.

"My name is Aaron Hotchner—"

"Right, you're her boss." He stated, recognising the name. "Why do you have Jessa's phone?"

He took a deep breath, "You need to come here straight away. She was involved in an accident last night and it's not good." From the other end of the line, he heard the screech of tyres followed by a 'Dean, what the hell?'.

"Define 'not good'." He demanded.

"They don't expect her to recover."

"We're on our way." He snapped before the call disconnected.

* * *

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam demanded as Dean pulled a dangerous U-turn and started driving in the opposite direction of their motel.

"Define 'not good'?" Dean asked into the phone, his face contorting into an expression of panic and worry. He remained quiet long after he received his answer before he finally said, "We're on our way."

"Dean?" Panic began surging through Sam as he waited for his brother to explain what was happening. He knew it couldn't have been good, "Is Jessa okay?"

Tears had filled the older man's green eyes as he shook his head.

"What?"

"She's dying, Sammy." He choked out, "She crashed her motorbike."

Sam found himself completely unable to speak, and the usually four-and-a-half-hour drive became a silent three hours.

When the two brothers got to Jessa's room, a man that Dean assumed was the boss sat by her bedside—his hand wrapped around her limp one. He was muttering something as he gently stroked his thumb across her knuckles.

Sam cleared his throat in the doorway, alerting the man to their presence. He shot up from his spot and walked towards them.

"I'm glad you got here." He said, shaking Sam's hand.

"What, umm." Sam started, but lost his thoughts, "What's wrong with her?"

"At the moment, everything." He answered, "She's not breathing on her own, and the doctor said that her body couldn't handle any more surgery."

He rushed to her side and collapsed in the chair that Hotch occupied moments ago. Dean, however, remained rooted to the spot. He stared at his twin—lying helpless—before fleeing the room.

"Dean!" Sam called after him and made a move to follow.

"Stay with her." Hotch told him softly, "I'll go."

Hotch found Dean outside the hospital. He was pacing and running his hands through his hair. Hotch watched him until the other man noticed him.

"What the hell happened to her?" Dean asked, fury in his eyes.

"I spoke to the officers that were at the scene." Hotch explained. "From what they can tell, Jessa crossed the centreline and into the path of a car."

"They think she's going to die?"

He nodded.

Dean just shook his head, tears threatening to spill over. "No. No, no, no, no." He ran his hand through his hair, then kicked a nearby rubbish bin. "She can't die. She can't! She's my sister, I can't just let her die. I can't."

"I know that this must be hard for you, but she is your sister." Hotch stepped into the other man's personal space in an almost threatening way. "She needs you right now."

In an instant, Dean had Hotch by the collar and pressed him against the wall, "You don't know anything." He sneered. He looked like he was about to throw a punch, but after a moment he relinquished his grip. "I can't be here."

He turned away and Hotch grabbed his shoulder, ducking the fist that came flying toward his face. Within a moment he had Jessa's brother by the collar in a similar fashion to how the man had him moments before.

"You're right. I don't know anything about what you're feeling right now, but I do know that your sister should be surrounded by people that love her right now." He seethed, "And if you walk away now you're showing her that you are nothing more than a coward."

Hotch let him go, then walked back into the hospital—not caring whether or not Dean followed. He got to Jessa's room where he paused, feeling like he shouldn't enter now that her brother was in there. He was saved, however, when his phone rang.

"Hotchner." He answered.

"Hotch, its Gideon. You haven't been in your office for hours, is everything alright?"

"Is there a case?" He asked in an attempt to avoid the question.

"No, not yet. I'm worried." Gideon informed him, "Winchester isn't here and she isn't answering her phone, have you spoken to her?"

"I, uh, she's—" He stammered, "Jason, I'm at the hospital."

"Hospital? Are you alright?"

"Jessa—she was in an accident last night."

"Is she okay? Are you okay?"

"The doctors don't know anything yet." He lied.

"Hotch, are you alright?"

"I don't want you to worry the team until I know more." He said, hiding his emotions, "I'll call you with updates." He hung up and squeezed his hands into fists to control the shaking of his extremities. It was only moments after that that the pacing began.

Every time he turned on his heel, and caught a glimpse into Jessa's room, a new wave of grief washed over him. After a little while he refused to look in.

"Have you been in, Agent Hotchner?" Doctor Abraham appeared in front of him, brushing a blonde strand of hair from her face.

"I have. Her brother is in there now."

"How are you holding up?" She asked, genuine concern in her eyes.

"How's she looking?"

"She's still alive, which is more than we could have hoped." She offered him a reassuring smile, "I'm about to go in and check on her, and if her condition's improved we may be able to take her into surgery."

"Good."

Dr Abraham smiled again, and walked into the room. He could see her introducing herself to Sam, and felt a little guilty that Dean wasn't with his twin—From everything Jessa had told him, they were close.

Hotch sat himself down in a chair against the wall and watched the room, knowing how powerless he'd feel if he entered. After a while, someone came and sat next to him.

"You know, you're right." Dean told him, staring straight ahead into Jessa's room. "She was always the strong one."

"She's certainly strong." Hotch agreed.

"I just can't stand to see her like that." He shook his head, "She looks so helpless and weak."

"Helpless, yes, but never weak." Hotch turned his head to look at the other man, "She shouldn't be alive, her doctor didn't expect her to survive this long, but she has. She's still fighting, Dean."

Dean hesitated, then stood and walked into his sister's room.


	25. Chapter 24

Doctor Abraham declared that Jessa wasn't well enough to take to any more surgery, but she tried to reassure them by telling them that she hadn't gotten worse. Hotch sat outside her room for hours while Sam and Dean sat with their sister. It was hours later that Sam walked out of the room and sat near him.

"I, uh, I don't think we officially met." He said, "I'm Sam."

"Aaron." Hotch replied.

"She's not doing any better."

"The doctor told me."

"Oh." The pair lapsed into an awkward silence before Sam cleared his throat nervously, "Are you, um, dating my sister."

"No." He answered simply, if not a little quickly.

"You've been here longer than we have, you obviously care about her."

"I do. I care about every member of my team."

"Then why haven't you called them?" Hotch looked at him with a confused expression, so Sam explained himself. "Jessa talks about how close you all are. So I figure if they aren't here, they don't know."

He sighed, "I wanted to know something before I called them."

"Doc Abraham said she's probably not going to make it through the night." Sam's voice was strained, like he was fighting to keep it even. "She's dying. She deserves to have people she cares about around her." He stood up, "They won't allow visitors in for much longer. You should call them."

He walked away and left Hotch in silence, thinking about his words. Eventually he picked up his phone and dialled Gideon.

"Hotch, any word?" The other agent answered.

"It's not good." Hotch said, straining to keep his composure. "She's dying, Jason. I need you to brief the team."

"Dying? Are you sure?"

"There's nothing more they can do for her. They don't know how long she's got."

"I'll brief them."

"Thanks." He hung up, feeling some of the weight he was carrying lift—some, but not all.

* * *

The team sat around the round table, watching Gideon—who wore a grim expression.

"Do we have a case?" JJ asked confusedly, "Nothing's come across my desk."

"We don't have a case." Gideon replied, removing his glasses and cleaning them with the hem of his shirt, before replacing them.

"What's going on?" Morgan asked, with the same amount of confusion as JJ had.

"Yeah, and why am I here?" Garcia added.

"Last night, Jessa was involved in an accident." He started, "Hotch has been with her all day at the hospital and they don't think she's going to make it."

Four blank faces stared back at him, each in their own state of shock.

Reid was the first one to speak, "Why—um, why, why weren't we told sooner?"

"Hotch didn't want to worry anyone until we knew something definitive." Gideon told him.

"Jessa is dying?" Garcia's expression mimicked that of a kicked kitten, her large eyes glistening with tears behind her glasses.

"Yes."

"Are we," JJ paused and cleared her throat, "Are we allowed to see her?"

"Visiting hours are ending soon, but yes. Hotch has asked that we all go down and see her."

"Has someone called her brothers?" Morgan asked, "They'd want to see her."

"Both her brothers have been there since late this morning."

"How did it happen?"

"I pulled the police report, it appears that Jessa's motorbike crossed the centreline into the path of an oncoming vehicle."

Morgan slammed his fist down on the table, causing everyone to jump. He then began pacing around the room and running his hands through his hair.

"Morgan." JJ placed a soft hand on his forearm, causing him to stop. "Calm down, it's not going to do anyone any good."

"Calm down?" He yelled, "Jessa has been laying in a hospital dying, and he didn't think we deserved to know!" He accused.

"Yelling is not going to do her any good." She told him calmly, "The best thing we can do for Jessa right now, is to be with her."

The drive to the hospital was completely silent with no one willing to speak—just to think about Jessa. When they reached her room, Hotch was sitting silently outside, while another man sat on the windowsill and chatted to her as if her was talking back.

Hotch stood when they all approached, "There's been no change since she was brought in. Her doctor says the chances of her condition improving is slim."

"Who's in with her now?" JJ asked.

"Her brother, Dean."

They all sat down on the chairs beside Hotch, no one wanting to disturb the family moment nor were they willing to say goodbye—they just wanted to be there.

* * *

Dean took up a position on the windowsill, just staring at his twin. At first he couldn't stand to be in the room, but now he knew he couldn't leave. She wouldn't die alone.

"How long do you think she's got?" Sam asked, looking up at his big brother with red-rimmed eyes.

"As long as she wants." He replied, "And she's as stubborn as Dad, so it could be a long time."

Sam stood up and fled from the room, feeling the weight of the situation, and Dean made no move to follow him.

"Where do you think he's going?" He asked his sister. "You're right, probably to go share his feelings with someone." He carried on her part of the conversation in his head. "So Sam and I just took out a nest of Vamps in North Carolina. It took us a few days, but it was easy enough after we tracked them down. You would have been so bored, I know you hate it when there's not much action." He sighed, "I think your boss called the rest of your team." He chuckled, "I know how much you hate being fussed over." He lapsed into silence for a while. It wasn't until he noticed a group of people sitting outside the room that he kept talking, "Everyone's here, J. Who would have thought, the girl that couldn't make friends now has so many." He laughed to himself, "You probably would have hit me for that." His smile faded, "I want to call Ellen. But I know how much she worries, and you would definitely hit me for that. I'll just call her when you wake up." Dean hesitated after the words fell from his mouth. _Wake up._ They said that was next to impossible. She wasn't going to wake up. "She deserves to know."

"She's got quite the crowd out there." Dean turned to see a small blonde woman standing in the doorway. Her lab coat gave her away as Jessa's doctor.

"Yeah, well she's got a lot of people that love her."

"I'm just here to check on her." The doctor—Dr Abraham, her coat read—told him, stepping closer to her bedside. "She's certainly fighting."

"If you knew Jessa you wouldn't be surprised."

She smiled, then made some notes. After a minute or two she turned to him, "I'm going to order a consult." She said, "After this long of a time, she should have either improved or deteriorated and considering she's done neither I want our neurologist to look at her."

"What does that mean, Doc?"

"It means that there is a very high chance that your sister is braindead, in which case keeping her connected to the machines is not advised."

"You're saying she's dead?"

"I'm saying that there is a chance she's braindead, yes."

"You're saying that she's lying there, breathing, and her heart's beating but she's dead?" Dean's voice had risen as he slowly unravelled.

"Mr Winchester, at this point in time the machines are doing all that for her, because her body can't." She left the room, and almost half an hour later returned with another doctor who introduced himself as Dr Jameson.

Dr Jameson took some time examining her before he finally turned to Dean and confirmed the worst. Jessa was braindead and wouldn't recover.

"I have to find Sammy." Dean mumbled, fleeing.

As soon as Dean fled, Hotch was on his feet entering the room. "What's going on?" He asked the two doctors that stood over Jessa.

Doctor Abraham looked at him sadly, "She's been declared braindead."

It felt as though time came grinding to a stop but Hotch was aware of nothing around him. Like his entire being relied on the woman that lay on the hospital bed.

"What?" He croaked out.

"I'm very sorry, Mr Hotchner," She laid a sympathetic hand on his arm, "But as soon as her brothers sign off on it, we have to switch of her life support systems."

 _Switch off her life support systems._ Dr Abraham's words echoed in his mind like some cruel cosmic joke. Jessa wasn't dying. She was strong, and she had already survived so much that she couldn't possibly be broken by something like this. Could she?

He put his head in his hands and fought back the tears he knew were coming, before he turned and slammed his hand into the wall. Luckily he opened his fist to hit the wall with the heel of his hand, minimising damage to both himself and the hospital.

The noise brought the other team members rushing in, only to be told exactly what was going on.

* * *

It took a while, but Dean finally found Sam in the hospital's chapel, kneeling in the back pew. He stood in the doorway for a while and watched his brother cry as he silently prayed for a miracle before he made his presence known.

"Any news?" Sam shot to his feet, a look of desperate hope in his big chocolate eyes.

Dean shook his head sadly, "They say she's dead, Sammy." His voice cracked when he spoke and let the tears he had been fighting fall.

Sam rushed to his side and wrapped one large arm around him, needing the comfort as much as his brother did.

"What did the doctor say?" He asked, as soon as Dean's sobs slowed.

"She's braindead. There's nothing more they can do."

Sam suddenly let go and walked determinedly out of the chapel and down the hospital corridor. Dean watched him for a moment, before he realised that Sam wasn't heading in the same direction as their sister's room.

"Sam!" He rushed to catch up with the bigger man, "Jessa is that way." He pointed in the direction of another hall.

"I know." Sam answered, not breaking his stride. If anything, he walked faster.

"Then what the hell man?"

"I'm not going to let her die."

"She's already dead!" As soon as the words fell from Dean's mouth, Sam whirled on him sporting an almost murderous expression.

"Do not say that!" He roared.

"Say what? It's the truth."

Sam shook his head and continued walking away.

"Where the hell are you going?" Dean called after him.

"To fix this."

The words caused Dean to jump into motion. He was in front of Sam in three strides, "Woah! I know what that means!" He shoved his little brother backwards, "I'm not going to let you do that."

"Ten years, Dean!" He yelled, shoving Dean back, "That's probably longer than we've anyway."

"I'm not letting this happen, Sammy! She's already gone, okay. You know Jessa, she wouldn't want this. She wouldn't want you to put a limit on your life for her!"

"Who are you to tell me what she would want." Sam was no longer yelling, his voice was cold and dangerous.

"Just think this through!" Sam turned away, so Dean called out, "If you walk away now you won't ever see her again." It wasn't a threat, just an observation. His voice wavered, but he stood his ground and watched as Sam didn't even hesitate as he walked away.

* * *

When Dean got back to Jessa's room, his feet barely able to carry him, it was only Hotch sitting in the room with her doctor.

"Did, uh, everyone leave?"

Hotch nodded, "I'll leave you to it, too."

Dean hesitated, but then said, "No, don't. She would want you here."

Hotch gave him a small, grateful smile.

"This may sound like a stupid question," Doctor Abraham said, "but are you ready?"

Dean nodded and wiped a stray tear from his face. "Yeah, do it."

"You're not going to wait for your brother?" Hotch asked.

"Sammy doesn't want to be here." Dean's voice was heavy, but it was obvious that it was more than the emotion of losing his sister—his twin.

"Okay." Doctor Abraham took a breath and stepped closer to the monitors.

There wasn't some big shift in Dean's universe like he would have thought – one moment the machines were keeping his sister alive, and the next they were switched off.


	26. Chapter 25

**So, I wanted to post this a few days ago so I wouldn't leave you hanging this long, but life got in the way. But here it is.**

* * *

Hotch watched as the monitors went black and he fought off tears as Doctor Abraham pulled the tube from Jessa's throat. After that was done, she began carefully disconnecting all the wires her body. When all the wires were removed she looked at the two men sadly.

"Time of death," She put two fingers against Jessa's throat and glanced at the clock. Instead of finishing the sentence, she frowned.

"What?" Dean asked, panic flooding his features.

"I, um." Doctor Abraham moved her fingers to Jessa's wrist.

"What is it?" Hotch asked, Dean's worry was mirrored in his face

"I, um—she has a pulse."

"You mean she's not dead?" Dean took a step toward the bed.

"It would appear not."

"So does she need all those machines?"

"She's breathing on her own, and her heartbeat seems regular." She reattached a few wires to Jessa, "I've just hooked up her heart monitor again, so we can keep an eye on it." She smiled at both Dean and Hotch, "It would appear that Miss Winchester isn't ready to give up."

"When is she ever." Dean allowed himself to smile before he grabbed his phone, "Excuse me." When he got into the hall he frantically dialled Sam's number. "Come on, come on." He muttered as it rang.

"Dean, you can't talk me out of this." Sam answered. "I have to go." He moved the phone away from his ear and was about to end the call when he heard Dean yell out.

"Sam, she's alive."

"What did you say?"

"The doctor turned all of her machines but she didn't die."

"Jessa is alive?"

"She's alive, Sammy." He almost laughed but then he remembered what Sam was about to do, "You haven't done anything stupid, yet. Have you?"

"No not yet." Sam looked down at the box he held in his hands. It was everything he needed to summon a crossroads demon, but he was yet to bury it. "I haven't summoned it yet."

"Good."

Sam smiled, but then it occurred to him. "Dean, how is she alive?"

"I have no idea." Dean hadn't stopped to think about it—he was just so happy that his sister was alive. "Maybe she's just fighting."

"Maybe." Sam didn't sound convinced. "I'll be back there shortly." He hung up the phone and took off running.

* * *

Hotch called a meeting as soon as the team arrived the next morning, knowing they would all be thinking the worst when he assembled them. They were all waiting on Garcia when she came rushing in.

"Is this about Jessa? Are you going to tell us that this was all a bad dream and she's okay?"

"Sit down, Garcia." He ordered. Five anxious pairs of eyes stared at him intently as he began, "Last night Jessa's brothers made the decision to turn off her life support."

"Oh god." Penelope muttered, tears escaping her eyes.

"The doctors can't explain what happened, but she survived."

"What?" Morgan almost yelled, his eyes doubling in size. "I thought you said that the doctors said she wasn't going to?"

"That's what they thought, but when all her life support machines were switched off she started breathing on her own."

"Is she awake?" JJ asked softly.

"Not yet. No one can be sure when—or if—she will."

"Can we see her?" It was Reid that spoke now, looking up at his boss.

"They were going to take her into surgery today to repair the rest of the damage that she couldn't handle before, so her brothers have asked that we come in tomorrow."

* * *

Morgan stepped into the hospital room and felt a pang of grief. He didn't quite know what he expected to see, but Jessa didn't look a whole lot different than the last time he had seen her when they were sure she was dying. This time, she didn't have a tube down her throat, and her skin had a little bit of colour, but she was still unconscious, and her future was still unknown. It was almost a full week since Hotch gave them the news, but this was the first time he had been able to bring himself to see her.

"Are you okay?" JJ's soft voice beside him brought him back to where he needed to be.

"She looks the same."

"She's getting better." Her arm curled around his, "You just have to believe that she'll get even better."

"We don't know that."

"Jessa needs us to believe that she will."

He knew JJ was right—she mostly was—but somehow the pessimist in him won. "I have to go."

JJ watched Morgan run away and minutes later Garcia walked in with the three coffee's she was sent to fetch from the cafeteria.

"Where's Morgan?" She asked, setting down the paper tray.

"He left." JJ took the cup meant for her, then gripped Jessa's hand with her free one.

"Oh." She took a seat, "Why would he leave?"

"It's got to be hard on him—seeing her like this."

"It's hard on all of us."

JJ tilted her head to the side, studying her friend, "Still, I can't imagine how he's feeling right now."

Penelope remained silent.

"You know he's in love with her, right?"

"What?" The analyst seemed genuinely shocked, "I mean, I knew they had a thing, but—how could I not see that? I see everything. I'm like Big Brother."

JJ chuckled, "I wouldn't beat yourself up. You can't know everything."

Penelope grumbled something about being off her game, but otherwise dropped the subject. "Hey, where did her brothers go?"

"They don't like being here while we are. Why?"

She grinned suggestively, "I like looking at them."

The comment made JJ laugh more, "Yeah, how did one family get so much good genes?"

"Hey, don't complain."

"I'm not."

"Good." The pair lapsed into comfortable silence until Garcia lost her patience. "When is she going to wake up? It's already been a week."

"She'll wake up when she's ready. Give her time."

"It's not the same without her around."

"She'll come back. This is Jessa we're talking about."

"You're right."

The two women sat with their friend for over an hour before Sam and Dean walked in and they left.

Dean was chatting to Jessa while Sam was outside chatting up the pretty blonde that worked with their sister when Ellen stormed into the room, her expression somewhere between grief and fury.

"Why didn't you call me?" Was the first thing she demanded.

"Uh, well, um." Dean stammered, the truth was he didn't know what to say, and then too much time had passed and he was scared of her reaction. Dean Winchester could stare into the eyes of any supernatural monster and not even blink but Jessa's mother-figure scared him to death. "I, um… Who did call you?"

"Her boss." She all but yelled, "My girl has been laying here—dying for all we know—for a week and I have to hear it from her boss!"

Dean cursed, he knew he shouldn't have let slip that Ellen didn't know in front of Aaron. "I'm sorry, Ellen. I just—I didn't know what to say."

The hitch in his voice softened Ellen's expression as her maternal instincts kicked in, and she wrapped her arms around Dean, "It's okay. I'm here now." Another moment passed before she released him, "How is she?"

"Same as ever. Miraculously alive, but still comatose."

"Miraculously? We believe in miracles now?"

Dean held up his hands in an 'I'm innocent' gesture, "We didn't do anything like that. But a week ago, we switched off her life support and she just didn't die."

"You didn't think to call me then?!" Ellen yelled, but then backed down, "Sorry, trying not to be mad here."

"Well, she should have died but she didn't. Sammy and I have tried everything and we don't think it's supernatural intervention. So it must be a miracle, right?"

"I don't know, maybe it's just her stubbornness."

Dean chuckled, "Could be."

Not long later, Sam walked in followed by Jo.

"Did you get her number?" Dean asked his little brother.

"What? Who?"

"The blonde you were hitting on."

"JJ? No, I—" Realising Dean wasn't buying it he dropped the lie, "I was going to but then _someone_ ," He looked pointedly at Jo, "interrupted."

"Way to go, wingman." Dean laughed.

"She wasn't interested, anyway Sam." Jo told him, patting him on the back.

"What? Of course she was."

"Trust me, I know when a woman is trying to blow someone off."

Dean laughed, and Sam scowled but they dropped the subject.

"How are we all doing?" Dr Abraham walked in, "Aaron not here today? That would be a first. But I don't believe we've met." She smiled at Ellen, "I'm Doctor Abraham, Jessa's doctor."

"Ellen Harvelle." She shook the doctors hand.

"Family? Friend?"

"Family."

"How's my sister doing today, Cecily?"

"Improving. She seems much stronger than yesterday, and there's far more colour in her skin. I would say she's recovering."

There was a collective sigh of relief in the room.

"I just wanted to let you know how she was doing. I'll leave you to it."

"Thanks, Doc." Sam smiled politely, but as soon as she was out of the room he hit his brother.

"Ow. What was that for?"

"Cecily? You're hitting on Jessa's doctor!"

"Am not!"

"You are, but it ends now. Concentrate on your sister, for god's sake."

* * *

Over the next couple of weeks, Hotch spent all of his spare time in the hospital chatting with Jessa about whatever case they were working at the time. He found her brothers to be good company, them having spent more time in the hospital than him.

Today however, was one of the rare days that he got there and Sam and Dean were not. He sat down on his usual seat and pulled out a case file.

"Here's one you might be interested in. We're consulting for Alexandria PD." Hotch told her, "Two school teachers killed over the last month, one male one female. Both taught at different schools, lived in different parts of town, and went to different churches, supermarkets, parks. No overlap in their lives whatsoever. Both found dead inside a building site nowhere near where they were supposed to be. Any theories?"

"Have you tried good old fashioned psycho kidnappers?" Hotch turned to see Dean standing in the doorway.

"Actually, I was thinking it was more your kind of thing."

"My kind of thing?" A confused look crossed his face before it dawned on him, "She told you, huh?"

Hotch nodded.

"Give me a look." Dean held out his hand for the file. He flipped through it for a moment, "Where is this?"

"Not far. Alexandria."

"You know anything about the building site?"

"The site has been abandoned for years, last thing there was a church."

"It's just a nutjob." Dean closed the file and handed it back, "And by that I mean human."

"How can you be sure?"

"Hallowed ground. The chances of it being anything supernatural is almost nothing."

"Thanks."

"Dean, they didn't have any pie." Sam said, entering the room with a small paper bag and a tray carrying three coffees.

"What's this?" Dean snatched the bag and inspected its contents. "A muffin?" He looked offended.

"Well, yeah. There was no pie." Sam handed him a coffee, then one to Hotch.

"So you got me a muffin?" Dean shook his head and chucked it onto the nightstand. "What kind of cafeteria doesn't have pie?" He mumbled, taking a sip of coffee.

There was a brief silence that was broken by the sound of the monitors going crazy. The three men jumped to attention as Jessa's eyes shot open and her breathing grew more and more rapid.

"Sam, get the doctor!" Dean yelled, grabbing his sister's hand to try and relax her.

Jessa's eyes darted around the room as she panicked.

"Jessa, it's me." Dean spoke soothingly, "J, it's Dean. Calm down." One of his hands gently rested on her cheek, "You're in the hospital, okay?"

Dean's touch helped, but Jessa didn't truly relax until her eyes rested on her boss.

It was barely a beat later when a panicked Sam re-entered the room with Doctor Abraham in tow. She began to assess Jessa, shining a small light into her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

Jessa opened her mouth to answer, but ended up in a coughing fit.

"It's okay. We'll get you some water, but maybe don't try speaking just yet."

After she had a small cup of water she spoke, "Where'm I?"

"The hospital." Doctor Abraham said, "Do you remember what happened?"

Jessa frowned, then nodded.

"Good." The doctor smiled, "All your vitals look good, but we'll obviously have to run a few tests, but everything looks good for now." She wrapped her stethoscope back around her neck, "Welcome back, Miss Winchester. You must have some sort of guardian angel looking over you."

Doctor Abraham left the room and Dean grabbed his sister's hand, "How are you feeling, J?"

"Shiny." She mumbled, coughing.

"Here." Hotch pressed another cup of water into her hand.

She accepted it gratefully and took a few small sips before she tried to speak again, "Wha' happ'ned t'my Hawk?"

Dean laughed, "You know you got hit by a car, right? J, your bike's toast."

She made a face, "I liked that bike."

Sam just rolled his eyes at her, "We're all glad you're okay, Jessa."

* * *

 **There you have it! How did she survive? I may be evil, but I love doing this.**

 **Xoxo**


	27. Chapter 26

**I apologise for this being over a week late, but I've had a lot of personal stuff going on and haven't had a whole lot of time to write. Pair that with a wicked case of writer's block and you have my excuse.**

 **This is a little different than what I intended the chapter to be, but anyway.**

 **Next chapter may also be a little late.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

Jessa limped from the elevator, leaning heavily on the cane in her right hand. She may have been discharged from the hospital but her leg still wasn't completely healed from the surgeries. She hated to feel as if she was relying on something as much as she was the cane to walk, but not even her stubbornness could deny that she needed it. She limped up the hallway toward her boss' office, almost running into him as he walked out.

"Jessa?" A small smile settled on his face, "What are you doing here? When did you get discharged?" His eyes moved to the cane she leant on, "How are you feeling?"

"Hey." She started, supressing a chuckle at the rate that he threw the questions at her, "I'm fine, feeling pretty good, actually. They let me out just now, and I need to work." She answered in reverse order.

"How did you get here? You didn't drive did you?"

"Dean dropped me off."

"Oh, good."

"Can I work?"

Hotch laughed, and looked away, "Not a chance."

"Please?" She pulled a pouty face, and tried her best to replicate Sam's puppy dog eyes.

"Jessa, you've just been discharged from the hospital after spending more than two months recovering from a major accident."

"Yeah, two months. I'm recovered."

He shook his head, "Go home." He turned and continued walking down the hall.

Jessa struggled to catch up, before stopping when she got to the top of the stairs and he was halfway down. "Hotch, can you please stop walking?" She asked him, clearly frustrated.

Hotch was back at the top of the stairs in a heartbeat, his hand resting gently on hers. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head, "No." She whispered, fighting back tears of frustration. "No."

"Come on." He led her back to his office and sat her down on the leather couch against the far wall. "Are you okay?" He asked again, kneeling down in front of her and taking her hands in his.

"I'm not okay." She looked away from his gaze, "I'm not okay." She repeated, this time letting a tear fall from her eyes.

"Hey," Hotch reached up and wiped the tear away, and Jessa involuntarily leaned into his touch. "Come on, I'll take you home."

"No." Jessa shook her head.

"Do you want me to call Dean? He can take you home."

Again, she shook her head. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?" He put a hand under her chin and forced her to look at him, "Tell me."

"I can't." She reached for the cane that was resting next to her, "No, you're right, I should go."

"Jessa." He reached out and grabbed her hand, "Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded and squeezed his hand, "I will be."

When she got back to the elevator, Jessa pressed her forehead against the cool metal wall and groaned. This wasn't part of the plan. She hadn't meant to lose control like that. She was just going to convince Hotch to put her to work but instead she ended up crying in front of him—and not for the first time.

When the doors opened she limped out and was about to call Dean to come pick her up when she spied the truck. She made her way towards it, and awkwardly climbed into the passenger side.

"You're still here?" She asked.

"Told you he would send you away." Jessa just glared at him—she didn't like it when he right. "Come on, let's get to the motel."

"I've got a better idea." She reached into the back and pulled out a newspaper.

"Newspaper?" Dean asked, not seeing the connection.

Jessa grinned and flicked through to the appropriate section and indicated a few circled ads.

"Houses?" He looked at them questioningly.

"I can't keep living in motels."

"So you're gonna buy a house?"

Jessa shrugged, "Why not."

"Alright." Dean fired up the engine and pulled onto the road, Jessa directing him to where he needed to go.

It wasn't a long drive to Alexandria, but Jessa managed to snag appointments with the realtors to show her two of the houses.

The first was a large three-bedroom bungalow, with light coloured bricks and an impressive front garden. The long drive led into a single car garage that stood separate from the house. Dean looked a little impressed as the realtor led them through, showing off features but Jessa wasn't convinced. When the tour was over, she politely thanked the realtor and made her way back to the truck with Dean.

"That was nice." He commented as they drove the few streets to to next one.

"Yeah."

"You don't think so?"

She shrugged, "I want to look at them all before I form an opinion."

"Geez, J." Dean scoffed, "When did you become so picky?"

Jessa swatted him with the paper, "Shut up."

Dean pulled to a stop outside a large two storey brick home with a 'for sale' sign out front.

"See, I already like this one better."

"I thought you weren't forming an opinion?" Her twin teased.

Jessa just rolled her eyes and climbed from the truck. The pair were barely through the wrought iron gate when a balding man came barrelling out of the house, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"You must be Miss Winchester!" He grabbed her hand and shook it enthusiastically. "I'm Glenn."

"Uh, yeah." She was a little taken aback by his fervour. "This is my brother, Dean."

"How very lovely to meet you." He shook Dean's hand with every ounce of enthusiasm as he had Jessa's. "Let's show you the house, shall we?" He led them up the short walk—that was lined with some kind of colourful flower that Jessa couldn't identify—and through the heavy wooden door into a very impressive foyer. The floor was covered in large black tiles and a large pendant light hung over their heads. The realtor led them through to the open kitchen and dining room into the sunken lounge room. The far wall was exposed brick, and the rest of the room was painted a soft beige. An open fireplace adorned the wall opposite the floor to ceiling windows. Jessa tried not to look as impressed as she felt as they moved up the stairs.

"You alright, J?" Dean asked. He and Glenn had made it to the top and she was barely a third of the way up.

"Just give me a minute." She had yet to navigate stairs after her accident, and her leg was throbbing.

"You need a hand?"

"I can get it!" She hadn't meant to snap, but the pain combined with her frustration made her temper short. "Sorry." She apologised, "Just give me a minute."

It took her a while, but she made it to the top and they continued the tour. In addition to the main bathroom downstairs, the house had two more upstairs—one in the master bedroom, and another adjoining the other two bedrooms. The rooms themselves were spacious, and two of them had views of the backyard, which was large for suburbia.

"You really see yourself living in a place like this?" Dean asked when they were once again back in the truck.

Jessa nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. "It's time I grew up. I can't keep living like I need to pack up at a moment's notice. I'm building a life here—I have a job, friends…" She trailed off.

"You see yourself with a family?" Dean's tone wasn't judgemental like Jessa would have thought, it was almost envious.

"Maybe one day." She answered her brother truthfully. "But right now, I just want that house."

"You've still got like four to see."

"I know, but I couldn't get appointments until tomorrow. And I really love that one."

"Do you think your boss will?" He smirked, swatting her teasingly.

"Hotch? What's he got to do with me buying a house?"

"Oh, come on! The guy barely left the hospital the whole time you were in there! Obviously he likes you."

"Obviously he's married. Besides, he's my boss. I'm not going there."

"Whatever." He didn't sound convinced, but dropped it anyway.

* * *

It was a couple of days before Glenn called Jessa to tell her that the owners had excepted her offer and the house was hers as soon as she could come in and sign the paperwork. Sam was still away on a case so Dean drove her to the real estate office in the truck. It didn't take long for the relevant paperwork to be signed and for Glenn to be handing her over the keys to her very own home.

A week later, when Sam returned, they started moving her things from storage into the house. Mostly it was just a matter of dumping boxes in the appropriate rooms, and putting the larger furniture where it belonged. Jessa held the position of supervisor—occasionally helping out with the smaller things—because her leg hindered her from doing most of it. The boys shifted her bed into the office just off the kitchen because Dean knew how much she struggled with the stairs.

"Place looks good." Sam commented, throwing himself down on the couch when the last load from the truck was done.

Jessa couldn't help but laugh. The place looked like a construction site, with boxes and things lying around everywhere. It would take some time to get it in proper order. "My dining set is too small. It fit well in the unit, but here it's too small."

"What do you care?" Dean asked, dropping a beer in her lap, "You're always working anyway."

"I guess that's true."

"I should probably mention that Ellen called me the other day." Sam told his big sister, "I think she wants to come see you now that you're out of the hospital."

Jessa made a sarcastic thumbs up and continued to sip on her beer.

"Well," Sam continued, "She kinda called again when I got back and I may have sent her your new address."

"You what?" She sat up straighter, "Sam, the place is a mess!"

"Relax, J. Ellen won't care." Dean told her calmly, "Will she?"

"She'll want to clean. And put things away. And yes, Dean, she will care."

"Anyway," Sam went on, "The reason I mention all this now is because her truck just pulled up out the front."

"I'm going to kill you, baby brother." She glared at him as she used the cane to hoist herself to her feet. "Next time, warn me."

Jessa limped to the front door and had it open as Ellen and Jo walked through the gate.

"Hey, honey." Ellen greeted her, "Nice place." She wrapped Jessa in a hug, "How're you feeling?"

"Great." Jessa held back the sarcasm in her response. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We thought we'd come see you now that you are out of the hospital."

"She was worried about you." Jo corrected, hugging her 'sister'. "What's with the kickass cane?"

"My leg's still on the mend. I'll be fine in a few weeks."

"How do you navigate the stairs with that thing?" Ellen asked, stepping around her and into the house.

"I don't." She followed her inside, "I've set up my room in the office for now."

"This place is a bit of a mess. Let's get some of these boxes put away." Ellen walked into the lounge room and started fussing with some of the boxes.

"Ellen, just leave it for now. It's late and we've been working all day, I'll deal with it tomorrow."

"No time like the present."

"No, Ellen, please just leave it." Jessa flopped back down into the armchair she occupied before their arrival. "There's beer in the cooler in the kitchen."

Ellen sighed but stopped and sat down on the couch by Sam. Jo smiled and went and retrieved two beers, handing one to her mother.

"This is a nice house, Jessa." Jo said after a short silence, "Who would have thought, huh? You owning a house."

Jessa chuckled, "I'm as shocked as you are, Jo."

* * *

Jessa woke up to the sounds of clanging and slamming cupboards coming from the kitchen. Slowly she climbed from the bed to investigate, momentarily forgetting about her leg and putting her full weight on it.

"For f—Ugh!" She cursed, falling back on to the bed. After a few minutes the pain subsided and she grabbed the cane and made her way into the kitchen to find Ellen sorting things into cupboards.

"Morning." Ellen greeted with a grin.

"I made coffee." She pointed the the far counter where there was a brand new machine sitting.

"Where's my old machine?"

"I got you a new one."

"Thanks." Jessa spoke it almost like a question as she started hunting through newly stocked cupboards for a mug.

"Above the stove." Ellen told her without looking.

Jessa opened the cupboard and found her favourite chipped and old mug. "Ellen, I don't own this much kitchen stuff."

"I went out and got some. I don't know how you survived without a set of pots and pans."

"You know I don't cook, right?"

"It's time you learned, honey."

"How did you get in, anyway?" She asked, taking a big sip of coffee.

"The boys let me in earlier." Her brothers had slept on the couch, while Ellen and Jo opted for a motel.

"Where is everyone else?"

"I sent them to the shops. You need to stock this place."

Jessa rolled her eyes, "Ellen, I do appreciate your help—really—but I can handle this."

"I know, honey, but I want to help. It's what mothers are for."

Jessa stepped forward and hugged her. "When did you find time for all this shopping this morning?"

Ellen gave her a disbelieving look, "It's noon, Jessa."

"Noon? This is what happens when I don't have to work." She downed the remainder of her coffee. "I need a shower."

She started down the hallway and Ellen called out, "Towels are in the big cupboard in the laundry."

When Jessa shut the water off after her shower, she could hear voices and a quiet yapping sound. As quick as she could, she dried off and threw back on the T-shirt and sweats she had slept in and ventured into the kitchen to find her brothers and Jo chatting enthusiastically with Ellen. There was a pile of groceries on the island bench, as well as a plush mat peaking out from behind it.

"What's going on?"

"Well," Jo started, but she was interrupted by a small dog rushing around the corner and stopping at Jessa's feet. The puppy looked at her and tilted it's head as if it were asking a question, before yapping and jumping at her legs. "We kind of got you a housewarming gift."

" _Jo_ got you a housewarming gift." Dean corrected, denying any involvement in the plan, "Sam and I had nothing to do with it."

"You got me a dog?"

"Yeah!" Jo slid off her chair and scooped the puppy into her arms. He was an adorable tan and black thing with big floppy ears that were slightly too big for him. "We adopted her for you. Well, really you adopted her. I kinda forged your signature."

"You—" Jessa was about to get mad but instead just shook her head, "You got me a dog?"

"Yep." Jo was grinning, clearly impressed with her idea of a gift, "What are you going to name her?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, she's yours. So, what are you going to name her?"

Jessa sighed. She didn't want to tell her sister that a dog was the most impractical gift for someone that was rarely home. Right now, she could barely walk and she had no idea how the dog was going to get the appropriate amount of exercise. Maybe she would hire a dog walker.

"Well?" Jo pressed, "have you thought of a name?"

"What about Fido?" Dean offered, earning himself a hard glare from Jo.

"Why do I need to name it?"

"That's the point of it, Jessa. Come on." Jo pleaded with her.

"I don't know, Jo. I don't need to name it right away." She walked through the kitchen and into her room to slip into some proper clothes.

When she was dressed she threw her hair into a braid and walked back into the kitchen. She glanced into the yard to see Jo playing with the puppy. Suddenly Jessa was greatful that she had purchased a house with a decent sized yard—that German Shepherd wouldn't stay so small forever.

"You like the dog?" Ellen asked her with a small smirk. "We all tried to tell her it wasn't a good idea, but she insisted."

"No, I like it." Jessa smiled, "it won't hurt me to have a reason to come home."

"Are you ever going to pick a name?"

"When I find the right one."

Ellen smiled and turned back to the mess in the kitchen. "Now, you have to help me finish sorting all this stuff out."

"Tell me where you need me."

* * *

 **So, I couldn't resist giving Jessa a dog after what she and Dean spoke about earlier in the chapter. Yay. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and once again, i'm sorry it's late.**

 **Xoxo**


	28. Chapter 27

Jessa laughed as she watched Morgan dance with three different women, wishing that she too could enjoy the music with or without the partner. She wasn't a fan of this music, but she had always loved dancing—no matter what the tune.

"Jessa?" Haley said to get her attention.

"Sorry, what?"

Haley laughed, "I just said that I heard you bought a house."

"I did." She laughed, "And a dog. Last two things I ever thought I'd own."

Right then Prentiss returned with their drinks.

"How are they treating you at the BAU, Emily?" Haley asked Prentiss when she sat down.

"She means," Hotch smirked, taking a sip of his drink. "Am I being nice to you."

"Actually, everyone's been incredibly nice." Prentiss told her.

"Look at him move." Garcia spoke, obviously not having been listening to their conversation. Her eyes were firmly fixed to Morgan dancing as she sipped on her drink through a straw. "He's like a cat."

Everyone burst out laughing.

"More like a dog." Emily chuckled.

Garcia whipped around to face her, "He did not ask them to dance. They asked him." She resumed her staring.

"Okay," Prentiss conceded, "He's a cat."

"An alley cat." Haley laughed.

"Come on, Haley, let's go show 'em how it's done." Hotch grabbed his wife's hand and led her towards the dancefloor.

Jessa stared after them for a moment before turning back to her friends at the table. Morgan had called her a few hours earlier and practically begged her to join the team at the bar for the Super Bowl. She agreed, despite not following any form of sport. Emily had been in the BAU for the few months that Jessa was out, and she had heard a lot about her from the visits she received from the team, but this was the first they had met. Jessa decided that she liked Emily. She was the kind of person she would have befriended in her youth.

"That is so sweet." Emily fawned.

"I'm going to the loo." Garcia announced, setting her glass on the table. "Do not let anyone steal my seat." She practically ordered before stalking off determinedly in the direction of the bathrooms.

Jessa was a little taken aback, but the alcohol caused her and Emily to burst into a fit of giggles.

"Where's JJ at?" She asked Jessa after the laughing stopped.

Jessa pointed over to the other side of the bar where JJ was celebrating yet another victory at the dart board.

"You play?"

Jessa shook her head, "I do, however, play pool."

"You any good?"

"Watch and learn." She slipped down off the stool and left her cane behind. Her limp made her appear more drunk than she was—which was the plan.

"Can I have a game?" She asked the men standing around the table. She had been watching them play all night and they were good, but Jessa was better.

"How about you leave it to the big boys, sweetheart." One of them spoke, causing the others to laugh.

"Tell you what." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a fifty, "Fifty says I win."

"I'm in." The one that was leaning against the bar said, pulling money from his own wallet.

"Nah, nah, nah, nah," She waved her hands and shifted her weight to make it appear as if she was unable to stand straight, "I want him." She pointed at the one that made the sexist remark. "You," She pointed to the one at the bar, "Can buy me tequila."

She watched as the sexist man racked up the balls, while the other returned with a tray full of tequila shots. Jessa knocked back three before she said, "You breaking, or am I?"

"Ladies first."

She set the cue ball on the line and made an exaggerated effort of lining up her cue and when she took the shot it hit the balls at the bottom corner of the triangle and knocked them in different directions, none of them going anywhere near the pockets.

"Oooh." The group of men chorused.

"You got this, Kyle." One of them said.

The man she was playing—Kyle—smirked and made his shot, sending one of the big balls straight into the corner pocket.

"I was hoping you'd be big." Jessa smirked in an effort to distract him, lining up her next shot and purposely missing.

"Someone get her more shots." Kyle smiled at her.

Jessa let Kyle sink a few more balls until she sank her first, by this time she had downed a few more shots and was beginning to feel the effects.

"Look at that, you finally got one in, sweetheart." Kyle taunted her, sinking yet another one of his balls. "And I've only got the black one to go."

Jessa just smirked and lined up her shot, sending two balls into the far pocket. She grinned and took another shot, sending more balls into the pockets. At this point, Alex—the one that had been buying the shots—caught on to what she was doing and grinned. By the time Jessa's turn was over, she only had one of her own balls on the table.

When Kyle bent over to take his shot, Jessa brushed her body up against his, causing him to miss the ball completely.

"Is that two shots for me?" She asked rhetorically, no longer bothering with the pretence of being drunk. She lined up her final ball and sank it easily, leaving only the black ball in play. She grinned at Kyle and sunk it without looking. "Thanks for the tequila, boys." She grinned, putting her cue down on the table and snatching up the two fifties that sat on the edge of the table, "And the money."

She walked back to the table where Prentiss and Garcia sat, both were laughing.

"Easiest fifty bucks I've ever made." Jessa announced, sitting down at the table.

"Okay," Emily said, clearly impressed, "That deserves a drink."

"No, no." Jessa stopped her, holding up Kyle's fifty, "Drinks are on me."

She made her way to the bar and placed the drinks order, and was about to hand over the money when someone beat her to it.

"On me." It was Alex, the friend of the man Jessa had just won money off.

Jessa laughed, "It's on your friend anyway."

"Please, anyone that can put Kyle in his place deserves a free drink."

"In that case, I might challenge him again." She flirted.

The bartender handed over Jessa's eight drinks on a tray and she attempted to carry it in her left hand while using her right for her cane.

"Here," Alex grabbed the tray for her. "Where to?"

Jessa pointed him in the direction of their table.

"I'm Alex by the way." He introduced himself.

"Jessa."

"How did you get so good at pool, Jessa?"

"I've been hustling pool since I was old enough to flirt my way into a bar."

"That sounds like a story."

She chuckled, "A long one."

"Maybe another time, then."

"Another time? You sound sure of yourself."

"How about dinner tomorrow night?"

"I don't know, I mean, you're a complete stranger."

"I promise I'm not a killer or anything." He grinned.

"See, that's exactly what a killer would say." Jessa gestured to the others on the dance floor that she had their drinks and they made their way over. "Thanks for the drinks, Alex." She shut the conversation down as the group grabbed their drinks.

Alex smiled politely, and walked back over to his friends.

"Who was that?" Emily asked with a sly smile.

"Friend of the guy I won pool against." She said, "Helped me carry the drinks."

"I hate to break this up," JJ said, grabbing her drink and taking a few sips, "But we've got a case. I just called Gideon and he's going to meet us at the office."

There was a collective groan from everyone around the table.

"I guess it's home time for me." Haley declared.

"I'll walk you out." Hotch grabbed her hand and led her to the door.

"I'll get us a couple of cabs." Prentiss told them, slipping away.

"Well," Morgan sighed, "There ends a great night."

"Crime doesn't sleep, my love." Penelope said.

"Apparently not."

* * *

When they got to the FBI building, the first thing they did was make coffee.

"You know, it never fails." Morgan started, pouring himself a mug, "Just as I'm getting my groove thing going, bam. We're back at the BAU."

"You know, statistically a case doesn't come in with any more frequency if you're at a party or gathering than if you aren't." Reid supplied for them, "It's a trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more."

"Besides, is it really that hard for you to get your 'groove thing' going again?" Prentiss teased.

"Only when he's sleeping." Gideon deadpanned, walking in the room and slipping out of his coat.

Morgan looked a little shocked, and feigned hurt at his remark.

"Where were you tonight?" Hotch asked curiously.

"I told you, I went to the Smithsonian." He answered without any real emotion in his voice and Jessa cast a curious glance at Morgan is if to ask if Gideon was alright. Morgan just shrugged.

"You missed a good time." Prentiss told him.

"I had a good time." He sat down and faced the screen, "It's good to see you Winchester." He directed at Jessa more as a formality than genuine emotion.

"The good time is definitely over." JJ said sourly, stalking back into the room. She clicked a button on her remote and a couple's image popped up, "Georgia, the Kyles—Dennis and Lacy—were murdered an hour ago in their suburban Atlanta home."

"An hour ago?" Hotch asked, a little surprised at the time frame.

"Police were on the scene unusually fast."

"Why?" Morgan asked.

"One of the Unsubs called and told them that the other was about to murder the victims."

"You're kidding?" Jessa said, surprised.

JJ nodded and added, "From inside the house. According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there because the other—who they both identified as Raphael—was about to kill the sinners that lived there."

"Sinners?" Hotch asked for confirmation.

JJ nodded, "The 911 centre is going to send Garcia a copy of the tape."

"How fast was the police response time?" Reid asked.

"Four minutes, twenty-six seconds." She told him, "During which time Raphael managed to do this." She clicked another button and four gruesome images popped up, causing Garcia to look away. Two of the images were of Lacy Kyle laying in a pool of blood—one a close up, the other displaying her entire body—while the other two were of Dennis Kyle, who appeared to be in the bedroom, while his wife lay murdered in the walk-in closet.

"In four and a half minutes?" Prentiss asked in disbelief.

"Mr Kyle is a dot com millionaire; his company is one of the largest employers in the community. There's going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed." JJ clicked the button again and the images changed to one of a highlighted paragraph on a page.

"Revelations, chapter six, verse eight." Jessa read.

"The unsub called the victims sinners." Morgan theorised, "These guys are on a mission."

"Mission based killers will not stop killing." Reid told them.

" _And I looked and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death._ " Jessa read but Gideon jumped in and finished the line.

"And Hell followed with him."

"Let's go." Hotch told them, standing from his seat. Jessa stood too, but he held out his arm to stop her, "Where're you going?"

"To get my go-bag from my desk." She said it as if it were the most obvious explanation.

"Jessa, you're not coming."

"Why not?"

"You aren't due back until Monday, and you haven't been cleared for the field."

"Hotch, come on." She checked her watch, "It's Monday already, and I promise I'll just stay in the field office. You need me. You saw the verse; he's killing in the name of religion."

"Reid is just as useful as you are when it comes to religion."

"I need this, Hotch."

Hotch sighed, it was against his better judgement to allow her to come but he couldn't deny the pout on her face. "Fine. But you stay at the field office."

* * *

 **So the bible verse I wrote in isn't word for word what they use in this episode (2x14 The Big Game) but it's a direct quote from my Bible.**

 **Xoxo**


	29. Chapter 28

**Just wanted to let you all know that I am heading away to a music festival in a few days and i'm going to try my hardest to get the next chapter posted by then, but if I don't it may be weeks until the next update.**

* * *

The team sat in silence going over the case files on the plane. With an unsub this skilled and violent, they knew was far more dangerous than most of their other cases.

"This is a bad one, isn't it?" Emily asked Morgan quietly, breaking the silence.

"Unsubs with a cause are never good." He answered solemnly.

Jessa looked away. She knew he was right—this case was going to be a tough one.

"Pets." Garcia's face popped up on the small computer that sat on the table, "I just got the 911 call from the Georgia state police."

Everyone moved closer to the computer to hear.

 _911, what's your emergency?_ The operator asked.

 _I'm at 1527 Chesnut Drive._

 _I know where you're calling from. What's the emergency?_

 _He thinks they're too greedy. They have too much._

 _Too much what?_

 _Stuff, you know, possessions. Things they don't need. Hurry._

 _You're calling because these people have too much stuff?_

 _No, I'm calling because Raphael—_

 _That's enough!_ The second Unsubs voice cut in.

 _I don't want to._ The first one replied.

 _He's calling because Raphael is going to kill the sinners that live here._

 _I'm sorry,_ the operator spoke, _did you say someone is killing somebody?_

"Unsub one definitely sounds frightened," Emily observed, "Maybe he's doing this against his will."

"I doubt it." Gideon shut her down. "He whispered."

Hotch elaborated, "He could have called out to save them instead of calling 911."

"Not if he had a gun to his head." Morgan tried.

"If he had a gun to his head, why would he have dialled 911?" Gideon asked the group.

Jessa thought on his words, barely registering JJ's question until Reid was finished giving his answer.

"Okay, I'm gonna go ahead and run the name Raphael through the Georgia criminal databases as well as our own." Garcia told them.

"Thanks, Garcia."

"Ever so welcome, my liege." She grinned before signing out.

Jessa zoned out completely, thinking over the details of the case. After a moment she stood and made her way to the coffee machine.

"We land in less than an hour." Hotch told them, staring after Jessa confusedly. "Everybody try to get some rest." He followed her to the other end of the plane where she was pouring coffee into a mug. Without turning around, she filled a second. "Are you alright? You were uncharacteristically quiet."

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"Don't worry about it." She forced a smile and stepped around him, returning to her seat.

* * *

"What do you see?" Jessa asked her boss as he stared at the map.

"Absolutely nothing."

"So," JJ said, walking up to them with her notebook in hand, "I just talked to the Gentry's—they were the last couple to leave the Super Bowl party. According to them, the Kyle's didn't have any enemies. They were good to their employees, more generous than they needed to be. They were just generally good people."

"So why them?" Jessa asked.

"If the trigger is greed, they do have a nice house."

"You can't tell that from the street. They were targeted. Why?"

"I pulled everything we have unsolved in the last two years." Agent Franks said to JJ as he walked in, "Nothing even close to the MO."

"No murders involving a knife?" Hotch asked him.

"We have a lot of open cases involving knives, but they're common type crimes, bar fights, robberies."

"There's no way this is their first." Jessa announced, "At least one of them has experience."

"Is it okay if I go through some of your case files?" JJ asked Agent Franks. "Fresh eyes."

"There's nothing there." He seemed to get a little defensive.

JJ chuckled, and put her flirty face on, "Help me out, okay? These guys, they're not gonna let me do anything else, and I flew all the way here, so…"

"I'll show you the file room." Agent Franks smiled.

As she was walking off, JJ turned around to give Jessa a thumbs up.

"She's good." Jessa commented.

"I've seen you do similar things."

"Hey, I never said I wasn't good."

Hotch laughed and pulled out his phone as it started to ring. "It's Gideon." He told Jessa. He turned away as they conversed, and Jessa couldn't make out any of the conversation but when Hotch turned back to her he looked panicked.

"Everything okay, Hotch?"

"They're coming back here. It appears that the unsubs posted a video of the murder on the internet."

"Posted a video?"

"Yeah, Garcia sent us all a link."

Jessa jumped up and limped to the nearest computer, using it to open up her emails. The top unread message was from Garcia and she opened it up and clicked on the link. She watched as Mr and Mrs Kyle came into the bedroom, then Mrs Kyle enter the bathroom. Moments later, when Mr Kyle had his back turned, one of the unsubs entered the room and slaughtered him before entering the bathroom. They couldn't see his face, but when he walked out of the room he was covered in blood.

"Look." Jessa pointed to the six figure number that was changing steadily, "This has hundreds of thousands of hits."

"Hundreds of thousands of people have viewed this since it was posted?"

Jessa nodded, "People are sick."

* * *

After a little while, the rest of the team arrived and they went over the footage again. There was more, before the images of the actual murders. A man sat shrouded in shadow as he spoke of redemption and greed.

"That sounds like unsub number one." Prentiss commented.

 _He says redemption must be sought._

"And 'he' referred to being Raphael." Hotch added.

"Or God." Gideon spoke, his voice lacking any form of emotion.

"It's not God." Morgan all but spat, "It's someone sitting right there next to him telling this guy what to say."

Agent Franks cast him a sideways glance, but otherwise didn't speak. Morgan's angry outburst prompted Jessa to lay a reassuring hand on his arm and he visibly relaxed.

 _As the Lord God spoke in Leviticus,_

"That's a new voice." Jessa commented, completely shocked, "A third unsub?"

 _And if you will not yet for all this obey Me, I will punish you seven times more for your sins._

"It could just be recorded from a religious program, or sermon." Morgan tried to reason.

"'Punish you seven times'?" JJ quoted with a confused expression.

"Five more victims." Gideon's voice seemed to have permanently adopted the emotionless tone, and Jessa began to fear for the man she had come to see as a mentor. She knew that jobs like these tended to take the optimistic view of humanity from people, but she had never paused to consider the strong and able Agent Jason Gideon as one of those people.

"Those images were shot from the exact spot on the dresser where that computer sat." Morgan paced, and gestured to the laptop that sat on the desk in front of Reid.

"So, if this video came from that computer's camera, then what?" Hotch asked. "Did the unsub's bring it with them?"

"As far as I can tell this computer belonged to the Kyles." Reid told them, "Garcia can do a better analysis but it has their banking statements, their vacation photos."

"If one unsub enters the room and immediately attacks Mr Kyle, did the other one turn the camera on?" Jessa asked, "Wouldn't he have seen that?"

"Maybe we're asking the wrong questions." Gideon started, "This video, this message, it's important. Clearly they want the world to see this—they need it. But they didn't bring a camera with them."

Jessa ran all the information through her head, her thought process moving at a hundred miles an hour. "Which means they had it set up ahead of time." She spoke as it dawned on her.

"Agent Franks." Reid whispered, a little panicked as he stood from his seat, "Does this building have wireless internet?"

"Yeah, why?" Franks answered.

"That camera's on right now." Everyone stared at the computer as if it were some foreign object they couldn't work out. "The computer's connected itself to the internet. It's streaming a video feed somewhere."

"Can we trace this stream to the destination?" Hotch asked him.

"Keep it open and Garcia might be able—" He stopped abruptly, "It turned off."

Everyone crowded around the small screen as red words flashed at them on the otherwise blank screen: THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL. The screen went blank again.

"They're controlling it remotely." Jessa said grimly.

"Is that even possible?" Emily asked.

Morgan was already dialling Garcia's number, "Baby girl, is it possible to control someone's computer remotely?" He asked her as he switched the phone to speaker.

"Yeah, you can totally access someone's computer remotely." She answered as if everyone in the world already knew this. "It's actually done a lot today. When a mortal calls for tech support, instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is."

"And they maintain the access even after the work is done?" Hotch asked.

"They're not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse during a service."

"It's something left in the computer to be turned on later." Reid explained, more for Gideon's benefit who wore an expression as if someone had just suggested that aliens were invading the earth and living secret lives below the surface. "It's the same way websites get pop up ads onto your computer."

"Garcia, can you check the Kyles' phone records and see if they called for tech support in the last six months?" Hotch ordered more than asked.

"Right-o." She answered dutifully, "Oh, and if you get me the Kyles' laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there."

"Fast as we can."

"By the way, this video, it's gone crazy viral."

"What does that mean?" Gideon asked, judging by the way Jessa reacted it couldn't have been good.

"It means that it is the most downloaded video on the entire internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses embedded in the files people seem to think it's pretty cool."

"Call us if you find anything on the Kyles' computer." Hotch signed off, catching sight of Jessa fleeing out of the corner of his eye. Morgan made a move to follow her instantly, but Hotch held up a hand as if to say 'I'll go'.

"Murder as entertainment?" Gideon mused, sickened.

"They probably don't even realise its real." JJ, ever the optimist, put out there. "People see so many images online every day they might assume it's marketing for a horror film or something,"

Hotch left them to their discussions and tracked Jessa down to the lounge where she was working on making herself coffee. Out of the lot of them, she was the only one who hadn't bothered to change into more appropriate clothes and Hotch hadn't bothered to make her, admiring how much more at ease she seemed.

"Are you okay?" He asked, tentatively stepping into the room. "Wrong question." He added, realising how stupid his question seemed.

"People are sick." She repeated her statement from earlier. "I've dealt with death on an almost daily basis since I was a kid, and I've killed my fair share of _things_ , but I'm always at a loss when it comes to _humans_. Monsters kill because it's in their nature, humans kill because they want to." She fumbled with the mug in her hand and it slipped through her fingers, shattering on the floor at her feet. Defeated, she slammed her hand on the bench and took a few calming breaths.

Hotch didn't quite know what to say to her, not when she was unravelling like this. He just guided her to the small couch and began picking up the pieces that were once a mug.

"Have you been sleeping?" He finally asked her, "The last time I saw you like this was—" He didn't finish the sentence.

"When I got shot?" She finished for him and he nodded in confirmation. "What makes you think I haven't been sleeping?"

"Since we left Quantico, I've seen you drink more coffee than anyone else—almost double. Have you been sleeping."

Jessa nodded, then shook her head. "Occasionally." She told him honestly. "Enough."

"When was the last time you slept through the night?" At the look on her face he realised that he had asked the wrong question, "When was the last time you had any sleep at all?"

She looked down at her hands and mumbled something inaudible. Hotch knelt down in front of her and lifted her face to meet her eyes, "Days." She repeated, feeling herself all but completely unravel.

Hotch wrapped her in his arms as she began to cry, and he allowed her to sob until her breathing returned to normal, but even then he didn't move. After a few more minutes her breathing steadied completely and she was asleep. Hotch held her in his arms for a few more minutes before gently laying her down properly on the couch. He couldn't help but miss her warmth or the weight of her body on his but he had work to do. 'And a wife.' He added in his head as an afterthought. He and Haley weren't always happy, but they were trying and the feelings he had for Jessa would creep up on him in moments like this. The first time had been so long ago, just days after his son was born and he and Haley had been blissfully happy. The feelings had crept up on him so suddenly that he was sure they weren't real. It wasn't until he found them recurring did he make an attempt to push them down. That was until she got shot and disappeared. He had the urge to track her down just to ensure she was safe, and he did just that, but in a moment of weakness had also kissed her. Since that moment he had tried his best to avoid the moments which they found themselves alone. He had never been unfaithful, not really, but as time went on he was finding it increasingly hard to convince himself that he was still in love with his wife.

Shaking himself free of his thoughts, Hotch exited the room and re-joined the team who were currently sitting in front of the board working on theories.

"How is she?" Morgan asked as soon as he saw his boss.

"Sleeping."

"Is she alright?"

Hotch shrugged grimly, "I don't know."

"… extreme levels of disorganisation, yet there are forensic countermeasures and somebody in control enough to do complicated computer work." Reid went on as both agents tuned back in to the case, taking something down from the corkboard. "One member of the team is organised, the other's extremely disorganised. But what's strange is the one that we would consider as being most in control, the one that made the phone call, can't seem to stop the other one from killing." He paused as he thought it over, "Usually the frenzied personality takes direction from the cooler head."

"Alright, so let's look at that." Morgan suggested, "Unsub one called the police before the killing, but he didn't leave time for them to get there. Is the phone call just a guy working on a defense in case of capture? I mean, maybe he didn't want to stop the other, but he did whatever he had to do to cover himself."

"So, what do we have so far?" Gideon asked, causing a silence among the team before telling them pessimistically, "Not enough."


	30. Chapter 29

Jessa woke up feeling marginally better, but still far from one hundred percent. She wandered out into the bullpen looking for her team, but only finding Agent Franks at his desk.

"Where is everyone?" She asked him, sitting down on a nearby chair.

"Two of your lot went to chase down a possible witness, while the rest of 'em went to the new crime scene." Franks answered without looking up.

"New crime scene?"

"Yeah, local handyman."

"Was there a 911 call?"

Franks nodded, "They're sending over a recording. Should be here soon."

Jessa sat back and waited, and after almost fifteen minutes Franks let her know the recording was in.

 _Behold, I will cast her into a bed, and then I commit adultery with her into great tribulation._

 _Excuse me?_ The operator asked.

 _Two-twenty-two Smith Road. Raphael must teach more sinners the way of the lord._

"That's it?" Jessa asked when the recording cut off.

Franks nodded.

"Who lives at that address?"

He flicked through his notes, "Mr and Mrs Douglas."

Jessa stared at the computer that they had just used to listen to the recording, pondering what she had heard.

"What is it?"

"Adultery. That's the sin, but the voice on the recording appears to be the second unsub—Raphael."

"So?"

"There's a clearly dominant personality, and a clearly submissive one. Why would they switch roles?" She spoke the question rhetorically as she pulled out her phone and dialled Hotch. "What's at the crime scene?" She asked as soon as the call connected.

"One victim, a local handyman but he didn't live here. We believe he was having an affair with Mrs Douglas."

"Okay, that makes sense considering what the Unsub quoted to the 911 operator. But Mrs Douglas's body wasn't there?"

"No."

"So he abducted her? That doesn't make any sense."

"A lot doesn't make sense about this crime scene."

"Like the 911 call…"

"Why would they switch roles like that?"

"And why would Raphael refer to himself in the third person like that?" Almost as soon as the words were out of the mouth she realised what she was missing and smacked herself in the forehead. "Unless he's not."

"What do you mean?" Hotch asked her, trying to catch up.

"The Archangel Raphael."

"Are you thinking this is one of your things?" He asked her, dropping his voice.

"God no. There's no such thing as Angels, but that's the delusion. This unsub thinks he is acting under Raphael's guidance." He was silent. "Hotch, if these unsubs think Mrs Douglas is Jezebel, like the verse quoted, she's going to die a particularly horrible death."

"We'll be back there shortly." He hung up.

* * *

Jessa hung around and waited for the team to get back, having not much to do until they got back with more information.

"Agent Winchester?" Franks grabbed her attention, "Your tech from Quantico is on the phone."

Jessa grabbed it from his hand, "Garcia."

"Why is no one answering their phones?" She asked, panic sneaking its way into her voice.

"They're driving back. The cell signal isn't all that great." She glanced up to see the team walking through the door. "Hang on, they're here now." She gestured for them to hurry up as she switched it to speaker. "Alright, Garcia."

"Okay, so if the first video went viral fast, the second one's going through the stratosphere."

"Second video?" Hotch asked her.

"Yeah, there's a new video from our psycho. I'm downloading it myself right now." She sounded defeated, "Some of these upload sites get more than a million hits a day."

"Get it on the monitor here as soon as you can." Hotch ordered, hanging up.

A few minutes later the video flashed up on their screen. It was of a pretty blonde woman kneeling on an old mattress, her hands chained to the walls beside her. The unsub sat in front of her, his face hidden in shadow, as he read the bible verse about Jezebel's punishment. Jessa didn't need to listen; she was familiar with this particular story.

Dogs barked in the background as Mrs Douglas realised what was happening and she began to fight harder against her restraints, tears staining her face.

"Turn it off." Hotch ordered as the camera panned to the dogs. The unsub was about to let them out on Mrs Douglas. _'In the portion of Jezreel shall dogs eat the flesh of Jezebel'._ Everyone looked away in disgust. Jessa could only imagine how Penelope was taking

"Wait!" Detective Farraday—the small, balding local—said, leaning closer to the screen.

"You haven't seen enough?!" Morgan bit.

"Those dogs." He pointed at the screen, "Those three dogs attacked someone a couple of months ago. I would have had them impounded but the victim knew the owner. A neighbour. He didn't want to press charges."

"Are you sure?" Gideon asked.

"As God is my witness." He started rifling through his notebook. "Three mangy mixes. I knew those dogs looked sick. I put a call to animal control, I don't know if they ever followed up on it." He flicked through the pages faster, "Oh here it is."

"Do you have the owners name?" Hotch asked him, gearing to go.

"Hankel."

"Hankel?" Hotch asked, panic flooding him.

"Tobias Hankel." The detective confirmed.

"What?" Jessa asked him, looking between him and the confused detective.

"Tobias called the police about a prowler at the Kyles' residence. JJ and Reid went out there."

"He's the witness?" Morgan asked, panic setting in on him too.

"Let's move." Gideon ordered.

Jessa jumped up to follow but Hotch turned on her with a stern expression, "No." He told her.

"There is no way I'm staying here, Hotch. Not now."

"You aren't even supposed to be here."

"Our friends are potentially in a very dangerous situation, and you are deluded if you think I'm just going to sit around." She pushed past him and followed the others.

* * *

The SUV roared down the dirt roads, state troopers leading as they sped toward Tobias Henkel's property. It was dark as they neared, but every agent knew something was wrong. The SUV that JJ and Reid took sat in the drive, but there was no sign of their friends.

Detective Farraday took the lead as they filed out of the cars. "Take the house with Gideon and Hotch." He ordered one of his deputies, "There's a barn out back." He told Morgan.

"Prentiss, come on." The two rushed off around the back.

"I'll stay here, I guess." Jessa told no one in particular as they all rushed off. She leant against the SUV and idly played with the packet of cigarettes in her back pocket. She had quit a while back, but since her accident she had found her cravings getting increasingly worse. With a sigh, she pulled one out and slipped it between her lips. She was just bringing the lighter to the tip when a voice sounded behind her.

"Don't worry, they bench me too."

Instinct took over and she whirled on him, reaching for her gun and dropping her lighter in the process.

"Woah, I didn't mean to startle you." The young deputy put his hands up as he smirked.

"Don't sneak up on someone like that."

"Sorry." He bent over and retrieved her lighter.

"Thanks." Jessa lit the cigarette inhaled deeply, trying to settle the jitters of waiting for news. "So why do you get benched?"

"I'm new." He answered, "And I don't know if you noticed, but I'm kind of scrawny."

Jessa chuckled, that was true. He resembled Sam the way she knew him before she left—all skin and bones. He wasn't particularly intimidating looking either, but then again, neither was Reid.

"What about you?" He asked.

Jessa nodded to the walking stick that leant against the car next to her.

"I guess I'm not all that observant either." He sighed.

"What's your name?"

"Miles Fuller, ma'am." He spoke with the drawl of a proper southern boy.

Jessa couldn't help but chuckle, "It's Jessa, not 'ma'am'."

"Sorry."

She smiled, she liked this kid. "How new are you?"

"This is my second week."

"Hell of a case for your second week. I was in the Bureau for months before I got my first murder."

"In DC?" He sounded disbelieving.

"We're based in Quantico, but this was when I was in Omaha."

"Do you ever get used to it?" Miles asked quietly after a long silence, "The murder, I mean."

Jessa shrugged, "Never. But it gets easier."

She caught sight of movement from the side of the house, so she extinguished her cigarette under her boot and raised her gun, slowly stepping forward. Her limp made it hard to keep the gun steady, but she did her best until she realised it was Prentiss and JJ.

She grabbed her cane and met them, "JJ, are you okay? Where's Reid?"

"We split up." She answered, barely registering Jessa in front of her. She had blood on her hands and she looked dishevelled.

"What happened?"

Prentiss shook her head as if to say 'Don't press it', so Jessa stopped asking and rushed to the SUV to open a door so Prentiss could get her sitting.

"Keep an eye on her." Jessa said to Miles as she and Prentiss walked a few feet away to talk. "What happened?"

"When she and Reid got here they realised that Henkel was the unsub and split up. JJ entered the barn and the dogs tried to attack her so she killed them." Emily sighed, "Mrs Douglas was there too. Well, what's left of her was."

Jessa squeezed her eyes shut. It must have been incredibly traumatic for JJ, no wonder she was in a state.

"There's an ambulance on the way."

"And Reid?"

Emily shrugged, "Morgan went to look for him, but there's no sign yet."

Jessa tried her best not to think the worst, but she knew what this unsub was capable of and the worst crept its way into her mind.

* * *

A little while later the ambulance arrived and Jessa sat with JJ while she was being checked out. Eventually it started to rain.

"Any sign of him?" Prentiss asked, walking up to Detective Farraday as he stood watch over them.

"We've got every one of our units on the road. He won't get far."

"You can't find Reid?" JJ asked after the detective had walked off.

"Not yet." Emily answered honestly.

"Prentiss." Morgan called her over, and Jessa wrapped an arm around her friend.

"We'll find him JJ. We'll get him back."

The pair sat in companionable silence until Hotch approached, signalling to Jessa that he needed to talk to her.

"Sheriff a couple of towns over spotted Hankel." He told her, "We're going to check it out."

"I'll stay with JJ."

Hotch nodded, "When she's up to it I want you two in that house and going over every aspect of his life."

"Got it." Hotch started walking away, but Jessa reached out a hand and grabbed his elbow, "Bring him back, okay?"

"Of course."

The lead was a dead end. Hotch, Gideon, Morgan, and Prentiss returned to the house solemn and defeated. JJ and Jessa had had similar luck. Hotch had called Garcia and ordered her to fly to Atlanta so she could work on Hankel's computers.

* * *

It was mid-morning when Hotch had returned from collecting Garcia.

"Welcome to our nightmare." JJ greeted the analyst.

"His computer is an extension of his brain." Gideon told her, "I need you to dissect it."

Penelope nodded, although she appeared completely frightened.

"I'll get you set up. Come on." Morgan took her hand and led her out of the main room and into the room where Hankel had his computers.

"So nothing new since I left?" Hotch asked.

"Well, the good thing is, the guy documented practically every second of his life." Emily started, "The bad news is, we're still unpiling."

"From the looks of it, he hasn't left this place in years." JJ said, annoyance seeping in to her movements.

"He knew he could pretend to be looking for a motel and throw us off his trail." Jessa stated.

"No, no, no." Gideon started, "It's more than that. Sherriff's office, 911 calls, every time he engages the police and gets away with it he reassures himself. God's on his side, not ours."

Jessa put her head in her hands, and she heard JJ groan. They were getting nowhere.

"I'm going to go search his bedroom." Prentiss declared after a little while, "This is useless."

"I'll join you." Gideon followed her from the room.

Jessa stood from her seat and began slowly pacing, her sore leg enjoying the small amount of movement.

It was well past nightfall before anyone had a lead.

Prentiss entered the room holding an old sheet of paper. "Narcotics anonymous meetings." She explained, "There's a name and number written on it. A Mickey Bates."

"Call him and arrange a meeting." Gideon told her.

"Wait, Mickey Bates?" Jessa questioned.

"Yeah." Prentiss looked back down at the paper for confirmation. "Why?"

"I know him. He was a friend of my father's."

"Prentiss," Hotch started, "Arrange a meeting, but take Jessa with you."

Emily nodded and pulled out her phone.

After a few moments, Jessa excused herself from the room to go find JJ. She had claimed she needed air a while ago and Jessa was beginning to worry.

She found her leaning over the sink in the tiny bathroom.

"JJ?" No response. "JJ, are you alright?"

Jessa saw her friend catch sight of her in the mirror, but instead of turning around she froze in fear. In one fluid movement, JJ had hold of her gun and was facing Jessa with it pointed at her chest.

"Woah, JJ, it's only me." When JJ didn't move, she tried again, this time speaking softer, "JJ, it's Jessa." This time JJ snapped out of it and put her gun away. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." She smiled, "Just don't sneak up on me like that."

Jessa gave her a reassuring smile; she knew what she was going through. "Prentiss found someone that knew Hankel. I'm going to talk with him sometime tomorrow. Do you want to come with? It will do you good to get away from here for a bit."

"Yeah, I think I will. Thanks, Jessa."

"Hey guys, I think I got something!" Morgan's voice came from outside.

Everybody moved at once, and by the time Jessa got outside, her leg burning from the exertion, Hotch and Morgan were emerging from what looked to be a cellar.

"What's down there?"

"Hankel's father." Morgan spat.

* * *

Sorry about the wait on this, guys. I hope you enjoyed.

Xoxo


	31. Chapter 30

**Okay, so I could give you a hundred reasons why this chapter has taken me so long, but i'm just going to put it down to one thing: Me not being bothered. I've just got so much going on that the thought of writing this actually made me cringe. But i'm back (more than likely).**

 **So here it is, I apologise if it isn't worth the wait, but anyway, it's here.**

* * *

Jessa and JJ pulled up at the residence of Mickey Bates in the earlier hours of the next morning. He was sitting out on his front porch. Prentiss had told him to expect someone, but she offered to stay back at Henkel's house to go over what they knew, now that they had his father's body.

When JJ and Jessa climbed out of the SUV, Mickey stepped off the porch to greet them.

"Well, I never." He grinned as Jessa slid her sunglasses to the top of her head, "Little Jessa Winchester." He stepped closer and hugged her, "I haven't seen you since you were just a little one."

"It's been a long time, Mickey." She smiled.

"How's that daddy of yours? Still driving around in that ol' scrap heap he calls a car?"

"Be careful how you speak of that car." Jessa light-heartedly cautioned. "Dad actually passed away about six months back."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Your brother's still alright? Last I heard from John, little Sammy ran off to college." He paused, "He spoke about Dean, but never mentioned you. Now I guess I see why. How's it feel to be on that side of the law?"

Jessa laughed at him, "I've never been in trouble with the law, Mickey."

"That's because you had a hell of a lot more sense than that brother of yours." Mickey grinned, but the grin faded when he glanced at her cane, "Or so I thought."

"I'll be right in a few weeks; don't you worry about this." The sound of JJ clearing her throat cut off their reunion, "Mickey, this is Agent Jareau, we just need to ask you a few questions about Tobias Hankel."

"Your name and number were found amongst some of his things." JJ explained.

"Tobias Hankel? I haven't thought about that boy in probably ten years."

"So you knew him?" Jessa asked.

"Through a Narcotics Anonymous program?" JJ added.

He nodded, "That boy should be the one to tell you, but yeah. I was his sponsor." He smiled slightly, "Small town, we all get lumped together. Me, I was just a drunk but Tobias, he was a whole different sort of animal."

"What was Tobias' drug of choice?" Jessa asked.

"Dilaudid."

Jessa shot JJ a confused look so she explained, "Drug store heroin."

Mickey nodded, "He used to cut it with a psychedelic. That boy was looking to escape as far from reality as he could get. Addicts don't get excuses, but if someone ever needed to self-medicate, it was that boy."

"Why's that?"

"You know anything about his daddy?"

"We think Tobias Hankel may have murdered his father." JJ told him, and Mickey actually smiled.

"Good for him. You know, Tobias' mama ran off with another man when he was seven. His dad went section-eight, started preachin' about sin, end-of-the-world stuff. Beat Tobias' silly. He burned a cross in his forehead when Tobias was ten. If Tobias wore a hat, he beat him more." Mickey actually looked sad for Tobias, and really, Jessa couldn't blame him. Poor guy had it rough, not that that was an excuse for murder.

"Is there anyone Tobias would turn to if he was on the run?" She asked him.

"As far as I know, he never left home." Mickey looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, "You know, honestly, between his habit and the old man, I'm amazed he's still alive."

"Thanks for your help, Mickey." Jessa hugged him once more as they went to leave, but Mickey called her back.

"Listen, I owed your daddy my life. If you kids ever need anything, and I mean anything, you just come my way."

"Thank you." Jessa smiled gratefully.

"Take care of yourself, Jessa."

"Always do, Mick."

The two agents climbed into the SUV and they were halfway back to the Hankel property before JJ spoke.

"You seem close."

"Mickey was a friend of my father's, I'm pretty sure they served together."

"What did he say to you as we were leaving?"

"He just told me that he was there if we ever needed him. He's a good man, he just liked his booze too much."

* * *

"Any luck with the Rehab contact?" Gideon asked when Jessa and JJ returned.

"Well, he didn't know where Hankel might be, but we did find out that he has a serious drug problem—Dilaudid." JJ explained.

"Well, that could explain the psychotic fracture." Hotch supplied.

"Psychotic fracture?" Jessa asked, staring between her two bosses.

"Tobias is living as at least three different people." Gideon explained to them, "Himself, Raphael, and his father."

Jessa was sure she could have trapped flies, her mouth was open that far. Tobias Hankel was suffering from some extreme psychosis.

"This could be some bad news." Detective Farraday announced as he walked into the room, "A computer store was robbed in the middle of the night. A suburb just outside of Atlanta. Thief got away with four laptops, external hard drives, and a satellite."

"If this is Tobias, it puts him right back in business!" Jessa said, not trying to hide her panic.

"Guys, guys!" Morgan stuck his head into the room, panicking, "Get in here!"

They all rushed in to see Tobias' computers with images of Reid on them. He was tied to a chair, and had blood on his head.

"He's been beaten." Emily observed.

"Can't you track him?" JJ snapped, running her hands through her blonde hair as she freaked out.

"Hankel's only streaming this to his home computer." Penelope explained, tears in her voice.

"This is for us." Gideon spoke, "He knows we're here."

"I'm going to put this guys head on a stick." Morgan said, walking from the room.

"Why can't you track him?" Hotch asked Garcia. He was the only one in the room keeping a level head.

"He's rerouting to a different IP address every thirty seconds." She explained.

Jessa watched in disgust as Tobias—or more likely Charles—asked Reid to choose a 'sinner' to die.

"The other heathens are watching." He said after Reid refused to choose, "Choose a sinner to die and I'll say the name and address of the person to be saved."

Reid was looking at something that was out of the way of the camera, so they couldn't see it too. "I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher."

Hankel stepped in front of Reid and got in his face, "Can you really see into my mind, boy? Can you see I'm not a liar?"

Jessa closed her eyes until she felt a hand slip into hers. It was Morgan, he needed her support as much as she needed his.

"Choose one to die, save a life." Hankel continued, "Otherwise they're all dead." Hankel backed off so they could see Reid again. He was crying.

"Alright." He breathed, "I'll choose who lives."

"They're all the same." Hankel teased.

"Far right screen." Reid looked down, unable to look near the camera knowing his friends were watching.

"Marilyn David, forty-nine-thirteen Walnut Creek Road."

"You got that?" Hotch asked Garcia, who had already jumped into action.

"Yeah."

Gideon dialled the number that appeared on the screen. "Marilyn David? My name is Jason Gideon, I'm with the FBI. I need you to shut off your computer and get yourself, and anyone else inside your house, somewhere safe."

He hung up, then Reid disappeared as the screens turned black.

Morgan fled again, this time he slammed his fist into the door on his way out.

"So now what?" Farraday asked, "Wait for a 911 call and hope we get there in time?"

"It's all we can do." Jessa whispered, looking out of the room after Morgan.

* * *

There was a 911 call. _Raphael has killed them before their lies can free more sinners._ A defence attorney and his wife were slaughtered in their living room, this time Hotch hadn't objected when Jessa said she was going to the crime scene.

"What bible passage was left?" Gideon asked.

"Isaiah 59." Farraday answered, but before he could read it out, Jessa cut him off.

"'No one calls for justice, no one pleads their case with integrity.'" She quoted from memory, "'They rely on empty arguments. They offer lies. They conceive trouble and give birth to evil.'"

Everyone turned to look at her.

"Religion PhD, remember? I know the bible."

Gideon moved to the computer and sat down in front of it. "Reid," He said to the camera, "If you're watching, you're not responsible for this. You understand me? He's perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you."

Jessa smiled a little, Reid and Gideon were close, and she could tell that he had come to see Reid as a son. She couldn't even imagine how much harder this was for him.

No one spoke again when they were at the crime scene, nor on the ride back to Hankel's place. No one spoke until Hotch ordered them all to get some rest. Whether it was by choice or not, no one listened.

* * *

Jessa was sitting on the kitchen counter as Morgan made them both coffee when JJ walked in.

"You should be getting some rest." Derek said to her.

JJ just shrugged, "No one else is."

"We can handle it, you rest."

JJ paused, "It's funny. I keep thinking that the one thing we need to crack this case is… well, Reid."

"Yeah." Morgan answered, but he was tense. Jessa could tell he wasn't saying something, and apparently so could JJ.

"You think Reid and I should have stayed together at the barn, don't you?"

"Get some rest." Was his answer, so in other words, yes, he thought that.

"I can tell what you're thinking, so…"

"I just want to get Reid back safe."

"But… If I had his back like I was supposed to, he'd be here now." She finished for him.

"JJ, what do you want from me?" Jessa tensed, ready to jump in any moment.

"I just… I want someone to tell me the truth."

"The truth is, one of you is here and one of you isn't. You gotta figure the rest out for yourself." He left the room, and JJ sagged against the counter.

"Let him think what he thinks." Jessa told her, reaching for the mug of coffee that Morgan had made her, "What matters is what you think. And for what it's worth, I would have done the same thing. Don't beat yourself up."

JJ smiled, but didn't speak.

"Now, I'm going to leave you to ponder that," Jessa chuckled as she less-than-gracefully slipped off the counter, "As I make a perfect and swift exit." She joked, nodding to the cane that she clutched in her hand, "Well, sort of."

JJ laughed slightly, well it was more of an exhale than a laugh, but a small smile accompanied it. "Thank you, Jessa."

* * *

"We can trace their whole family history." Morgan stated as Jessa walked into the room. He was staring at the board they had set up on the screen door. To it they had images and notes taped—one side for Tobias, one side for Charles. "Here we got happy and smiling Tobias. Report cards are all A's and B's, but at eight years old, we got nothing."

"That would be his mother leaving." Jessa said, sitting down on a chair and elevating her aching leg.

"Six months later, on the other side of the board we have a form from Child Services saying they paid a visit." Prentiss said.

"And then Charles starts keeping journals about punishing sinners and needing to remove the devil from his son." Morgan added.

"Which corresponds to Tobias' drug use. He's trying to escape."

"So wherever Reid is, it was Tobias' choice, not his father's." Morgan finished.

"How do you figure?" Prentiss asked.

"Look at these two lives. They're like inverse graphs. One's getting weaker while the other one's getting angrier. Tobias would run away, his father would have stood and fought."

"What's Tobias' escape?" Jessa asked with a small smirk.

"Drugs." Prentiss answered.

"Wherever he's taken Reid, I would bet my life it's where he used to get high." Jessa explained, her smirk was now a grin. They were a whole lot closer to finding Reid.

"I'll go back through the journals and see if there's anything that links his drug use to a hiding place." Prentiss said, making a hasty exit to the next room.

* * *

 **A little light on action, I know but i'm getting there. Hope you enjoyed, and I hope the next chapter isn't as long of a wait.**


	32. Chapter 31

**Okay, so depression sucks (Which is 100% of the reason this is sooooooooo late), but i'm slowly falling back into my old writing habits. Although I can no longer promise that updates will be regular or following any sort of schedule because lately i've been feeling down in the dumps that writing is the furtherest thing from my mind. All I can promise is that if you be patient, updates will come eventually.**

* * *

When the video of the murder was posted online, Jessa tried her best to remain strong, but she could feel Hankel getting under her skin. She avoided the computer room at all costs, knowing what the images would do to her. She was pacing the main room, fingers hovering over her phone debating whether or not to call her brothers. She needed affirmation. She needed to hear the calming voice of her twin to clear her head. Dean had always had that effect on her. No matter the situation, his presence calmed her. She was about to call when Gideon stormed from the computer room. Jessa was rushing into the room in an instant, Morgan hot on her heels, only to find Garcia silently sobbing in front of then screens.

"Penelope, what is it?" Jessa asked softly.

"He killed him." Penelope sobbed, "He was beating on him, and then Reid just started having a seizure and he died."

Jessa felt Morgan tense at her side, and she glanced up at the screens only to confirm Penelope's story. Laying on the ground in the centre of the room, still bound to the chair, was an unmoving Reid.

"Oh my God." Jessa whispered.

"What's going on?" Hotch demanded, barrelling into the room with Emily in tow. No one answered, but the look on his face said he knew as soon as he glanced at the screens. Hotch's face was an unreadable mask, but those who knew him would pick up on the grief glistening in his eyes. "Where's Jason?"

"He stormed out."

"He blames himself because of what he said at the murder scene." Garcia supplied quietly.

Suddenly, Hankel rushed back into the room and began CPR on Reid.

"Emily—" Hotch started but she already knew what he was going to ask and was halfway out the door.

The rest of the Agents watched in astonishment as the Unsub worked to bring back to life the man he had killed moments ago.

After a few tense minutes, Reid inhaled sharply and began coughing and everyone in the room let out a relieved breath.

Jessa felt Hotch's hand reach for hers, but the contact only lasted a moment before he withdrew it.

"Hang on, what time was the latest video posted?" Emily asked.

"9:23." Garcia answered.

"And what was time of death?"

"The 911 call came in at 9:04 and the murders had to be moments after that." Hotch said.

"That's only a nineteen-minute difference." JJ realised.

"How long would it take to post the MPEG?" Morgan asked, catching on to Prentiss' train of thought.

"Two or three minutes." Garcia answered.

"Let's call it two. You factor in a maximum of sixty miles an hour in a residential area, that means Hankel has to be within a seventeen-mile radius of the crime scene."

"Garcia, can we see it on a map?" Hotch asked the analyst.

Penelope had it up in seconds, the radius marked out.

"Call Farraday." Gideon said, his voice stony and his eyes fixed to the computer, "I want that area locked down like it's martial law."

JJ nodded and pulled out her phone, but was stopped by Garcia's voice, urging them to look to the screens.

"You came back to life." Hankel said to Reid, who was still laying on the ground.

"Raphael." Reid said, but the man ignored him.

"There can be only one of two reasons."

"I was given CPR."

"There are no accidents." 'Raphael' said to him, "How many members of your team are looking for you?"

"Seven."

"The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and fire mixed with blood and they were thrown to earth."

"He thinks its Revelations." Hotch thought aloud, "The seven archangels versus the seven angels of death."

Jessa watched as 'Raphael' sat Reid and the chair upright before he spoke again.

"Tell me who you serve."

"I serve you!" Reid's tone was pleading and Jessa felt her heart break for him.

"Then choose one to die."

"What?"

"He won't actually choose one of us, would he?" Garcia asked quietly, more of an aloud thought than a genuine question.

"Your team members—choose one to die."

"Kill me." Again, Jessa felt Hotch's hand reach for hers, but this time she held on with equal force.

"You said you weren't one of them."

"I lied."

"You are not one of the seven. Tell me who dies."

"No."

'Raphael' pulled out his gun and spun the chamber, placing the single bullet in a random place and aiming it at Reid's head. "Choose, and prove you'll do God's will."

"No."

 _Click._ 'Raphael' squeezed the trigger and when no bullet fired, he asked again.

But again, Reid refused.

 _Click._

"Life is a choice."

"No."

 _Click._

"Choose."

There was a long pause in which everyone held their breath.

"I," Jessa glued her eyes to the screen and watched Reid look up at his captor. "I choose Aaron Hotchner."

As soon as his name left Reid's lips, Hotch dropped Jessa's hand. He visibly tensed but stared straight ahead.

"He's a classic narcissist." Reid went on, "He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4, 'Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.'"

'Raphael' raised the gun above Reid's head and squeezed the trigger. _Bang._

Hotch fled the room, and Jessa followed.

"I'm not a narcissist." He mumbled fumbling for a bible.

"I know that, Aaron. We all know that."

"He's not in his right mind, Hotch." Gideon told him.

"No, stop!" He ordered, "Everyone right now, what's my worst quality?"

No one spoke, unsure of what he was trying to do.

"Okay, I'll start. I have no sense of humour."

"You're a bully." JJ told him.

"I'm a bully." He agreed.

"You can be a drill sergeant sometimes." Morgan added.

"Right."

"You don't trust women as much as men." Prentiss told him.

"Okay, good." Hotch smiled slightly, which struck Jessa as odd considering the things everyone had just said about him. "I'm all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team. Because I don't, ever. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that. And he also quoted Genesis chapter twenty-three, verse four."

"Right." Jessa stated, "He said Genesis, but quoted Job." She thought to recall Genesis. "'I am a stranger and a sojourner among you; give me possession of a burial plot among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight.'"

"He wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose." Hotch was full on smiling now.

"He's in a cemetery." Morgan finished off the thought.

They all rushed back into the computer room to relay the information to Garcia.

"I don't see a cemetery." She told them, going over her map.

"Call up the first time we saw Reid." Gideon told her.

Garcia nodded and pulled up the very first clip of Reid. "I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher." He had said.

"Check to see if there are any reports of poaching in the last couple of days." Hotch ordered.

"Uh, okay." She did as he asked, even though her mind hadn't caught up to his yet. "A farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property."

"Where're we talking?" Morgan asked.

Garcia zoomed in on her map to where the poaching report had come from.

"What's that patch of green there?" JJ asked, pointing to a small section of the map.

"Marshall Parish. I think it's an old plantation." Hotch told her.

"Wait." Emily stopped them all, "Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from Marshall."

While they were talking, Garcia did her thing and had up all the information on Marshall Parish. "Guys, there's a cemetery on the grounds."

"Let's move." Hotch ordered. Everyone acted in that moment, grabbing their weapons and heading to the SUV's. "Winchester," He started.

"Stay here, got it." She smiled at him, "I know my limitations, Hotch."

"Okay." He turned to walk away, but Jessa called him back.

"Call me when you find him."

"Of course."

* * *

Jessa sat herself down on the rotting porch and lit a cigarette. After a few drags she pulled out her phone. Normally when she was feeling like this, she poured herself a glass of whiskey—or rather just drank it straight from the bottle—but that wasn't an option, so she called the only person who would talk her through it with her.

"This'd better be good." A sleepy Jo answered.

"How many times have I talked you through a crisis at all hours of the morning?"

"Fair point. What's up?" Jo sounded slightly less annoyed.

Jessa launched into a brief explanation of the case, of Reid's kidnapping, the unsubs games, and finally, what Reid said about their boss and her negative feelings toward the genius for it.

"Are you sure you aren't being unreasonable?"

"You don't sell out your family, Jo. No matter what."

"But he didn't. Not really. He was sending a message; I know you see that. So that begs the question: what's this really about?"

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't about the fact that you're in love with your boss—who happens to be married, by the way—and the thought of him being hurt nearly killed you?"

"What?!" Jessa asked, her voice an octave higher than usual.

"Tell me it isn't true."

"It's not true, Joanna Beth Harvelle."

"Don't you dare full name me, Jessamine Mary Winchester, you know it's true."

"It's not true, Jo." Jessa told her 'sister' adamantly, "He's married. I would never cross that line."

There was a sadness to her tone when she said that, and Jo picked up on it but chose not to mention it. "Alright, I believe you."

"Thank you." She stubbed out her cigarette on the porch next to her, wondering for a moment if it would go up in flames. Thankfully it didn't.

"Look, Jessa, it's late and I've got to go on a supply run in the morning. As much as I love you, and enjoy these little chats, I need some sleep." Jo said after a short silence.

"Yeah, sure."

"Talk soon, okay?"

"I love you, Jo."

"I love you, too, Jessa."

She hung up and dropped the phone next to her, hearing an unnerving groan from the flimsy porch.

"You mind if I sit?" Garcia appeared in the doorway behind her.

"Of course you can." Jessa scooted over. "Sorry, I needed to talk to someone."

"You could have talked to me." She plopped down next to Jessa, an action that elicited a scurrying sound from somewhere behind them.

"I'm sorry, Pen." And she was. Throughout all of this, Jessa had been selfish. Now she could see it: Penelope had been their first line. She had sifted through the images, censored the videos, sat for hours on end and watched Reid be tortured. And here Jessa was, shutting her out because of her own selfish reasons.

"Don't be."

"No, I am." She wrapped an arm around her friend, who then placed her head on her shoulder. "Do you know what we need?"

"To stop seeing horrific things like this on a daily basis?" Garcia supplied.

"No, we need a girls' weekend. You, me, JJ, and Emily. I'm sure Hotch and Gideon could give us a four-day weekend when we get back. God knows we've earned it."

"I like the way you think, Miss Winchester." Penelope grinned, "But what do you have in mind?"

Jessa hadn't thought it this far through, "I don't know… Somewhere with alcohol."

"Why don't we do a spa weekend? There's supposed to be this really good one in Pennsylvania. It's only like a five-hour drive."

"As long as we get really drunk."

"Deal."

The pair sat in silence for a few long minutes, but eventually cleared up the house and headed back to the Atlanta field office to wait news of Reid. They had just pulled up when Jessa's phone rang.

"Is he okay?" She answered eagerly.

"We got there." Morgan told her. "Gideon is taking him to the hospital to get checked out and the rest of us are heading back to Atlanta. Can you and Garcia meet us there?"

"Way ahead of you. We just arrived."

"We'll see you soon."

* * *

Jessa and Penelope sat in the break room sipping on coffee when the others filed in.

"Spencer's okay, isn't he?" Garcia asked the moment they sat down, "He's not like, dying or anything?"

"Relax, mama." Morgan said, "Physically, he's alright. I mean, he's battered and bruised, but he'll recover."

Jessa let out a sigh of relief. In her head she had been giving him hell for selling out Hotch, but she didn't mean it. Not really. Reid was family, and nothing family does is unforgivable.

"Is this a bad time to ask for a four-day weekend, Boss Man?" Garcia turned to Hotch.

A small and rare smile graced their boss' lips, "I'll put a call in to Strauss on the plane."


	33. Chapter 32

**I promise I tried to post this the other day but ff wouldn't let me for some reason. Anyhow, i'm working non-stop (literally, im doing nine straight full days) so I may not post again for another couple of weeks- Apologies.**

* * *

After a day of sleeping—well, on Jessa's part it was just a day—the women of the BAU, and Haley Hotchner, left for four days of pampering at the spa resort Penelope had suggested.

The five women piled in to Jessa's truck for the journey. Jessa was excited to get away from her life for a few days with her friends, but she couldn't get Jo's words out of her head, especially with Haley in the car.

"Jessa?" Emily snapped her fingers in Jessa's face to get her attention.

"Sorry, what?"

"Wow," Penelope giggled from the shotgun seat, "You shouldn't be that zoned out while driving."

"I just asked if you could turn this up." Emily laughed. "I love this song."

Jessa smiled and turned up _You Give Love a Bad Name_ , trying to drown out the off key singing from the backseat.

" _An angels smile is what you sell_ ," Emily hollered, " _You promise me heaven, then put me through hell_."

" _Chains of love got a hold on me_ ," JJ joined in, " _When passion's a prison you can't break free_."

Jessa laughed at their antics, but couldn't help joining in. " _Woah!_ " She sang, " _You're a loaded gun. Woah, there's nowhere to run_."

" _No one can save me, the damage is done_." The three of them chorused.

Garcia and Haley joined in for the chorus, and the voices of the five women practically drowned out Bon Jovi. " _Shot through the heart, and you're to blame. You give love a bad name_."

" _I play my part_!" Garcia yelled.

" _And you play your game_." Jessa sang.

" _You give love a bad name_." Emily followed.

" _You give love a bad name_." JJ finished.

" _You paint your smile on your lips, blood red nails on your fingertips. A schoolboy's dream, you act so shy, your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye_!" Haley shouted, surprising all of them a bit. " _No one can save me, the damage is done_."

" _Shot through the heart and you're to blame, you give love a bad name. I play my part and you play your game, you give love a bad name_." Five voices butchered the song.

" _You give loooooooooove…_ " Jessa hit the note perfectly as Emily launched into a haphazard rendition of the instrumental on air guitar.

" _Shot through the heart and you're to blame, you give love a bad name. I play my part and you play your game, you give love a bad name_."

" _Bad name._ " JJ echoed.

" _Shot through the heart and you're to blame, you give love a bad name. I play my part and you play your game, you give love a bad name_."

" _Bad name_."

" _You give love, you give love_." Haley sang.

" _A bad name_ ," Garcia and JJ backed her up.

" _You give love, you give love_." Emily had her turn.

" _A bad name_."

" _You give love, you give love, a bad name._ " They all finished as the song faded out, and they erupted into a fit of giggles.

"Okay, okay." Emily wheezed as she wiped tears from her eyes, "Jessa, I did not know you could sing like that."

"Sing like what?" She asked, feeling a little heat on her cheeks.

"That well." JJ supplied, "You're seriously good."

"Ha. Well, I don't do it often."

"Then you're lucky I caught it on camera." Penelope smiled, slipping her phone back into her pink fluffy handbag. They had all been so engrossed in the song that no one had noticed her videoing.

They lapsed into a short silence, and Jessa tapped her hands on the steering wheel to the beat of Metallica. It wasn't until Emily made an awkward sound from the back seat that she started paying attention.

"Jessa, I don't want to ruin the mood or anything…" She trailed off looking concerned for her friend, "But why do you have a stash of guns under the seat?"

"What?" She glanced in the mirror to see Prentiss holding one of John's old pistols. "Oh that. This was my dad's car. He was sort of into being ready for anything."

"And that includes a stash of guns in his car?" Haley seemed a little shocked.

"I thought I got rid of them all. Sorry."

Emily put the weapon back in its hiding place, and Jessa just prayed they wouldn't discover the actual stash in the bed.

Conversation turned to lighter topics and Jessa smiled, content in being with her closest friends. She watched in the rearview mirror as JJ and Emily joked with Haley, and Garcia would say something sassy. She loved seeing everyone so happy. It wasn't often they got to forget about the world around them, especially in their line of work.

"Okay, Jessa, Hun, we love you but this is unacceptable." Garcia said out of the blue, placing a hand on her arm.

"What?"

Garcia gestured to the radio that was playing music from Jessa's favourite homemade mix.

"Johnny Cash?" She asked, "What's wrong with that?"

Penelope gave her an 'are you serious?' look so Jessa turned up the volume.

" _I'm stuck in Folsom Prison, and time keeps draggin' on_." She sang in her best attempt at Johnny Cash's deep voice, " _But that train keeps a rollin' on down to San Antone_."

"Please no!" JJ said, hitting her head on the window. "Make it stop."

"Oh, come on." Jessa whined, "What would _you_ guys like? More Bon Jovi?" She was only joking, but all four women chorused 'yes' so she skipped ahead a few songs until she got to another Bon Jovi hit.

The five of them sang along to 'It's My Life' with more enthusiasm than before, and by the time the song finished, they were pulling into the spa resort.

Turning off the car, Jessa slid from the driver's seat and stretched out her leg. She knew she probably shouldn't have driven that long in one go, and the ache in her thigh agreed.

"Are you alright, Jessa?" Haley asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I will be in a moment."

"Here." Emily tossed her cane.

"Thanks." Leaning on the cane, Jessa straightened up before fishing her cigarettes from the car.

"Really?" JJ asked her.

"What?"

Garcia plucked it from between her lips and squashed it under the toe of her spiked black boots. "You know the best time to quit smoking?"

"Before you start?" Haley suggested.

"Well I'm thirteen years late to that party." Jessa told them light-heartedly.

"No." Garcia scolded, "The perfect time to quit is right before a fantastic spa weekend where you'll be far too relaxed to even contemplate killing yourself with these things." She snatched the packet and lighter from Jessa.

"Fine." She conceded. "No more smoking."

"Now that that's dealt with, can we please go check in?" JJ asked, "I'm in desperate need of a mud bath."

* * *

As soon as they were shown to their rooms Garcia disappeared and returned a few minutes later with mimosas. Jessa cheered her thought process and snagged one, downing it in one.

"Woah." Emily laughed, taking a sip of her own. "Slow down, girl."

"I just want to put this out there, I told Garcia when we came up with this idea that I'd be getting drunk, no matter what we're doing." She grabbed the three litre bottle of water from her bag, "I'm prepared," Digging through her clothes she produced a bottle of whiskey, "For absolutely everything."

JJ laughed, "I like the way you think."

"I have to say," Haley chimed in, "I'm having my first kid-free getaway since Jack was born so I am making the most of it."

After an hour long hot stone massage, and an hour in the sauna, Jessa never felt more relaxed. She was currently reclined in what was called a 'milk and oatmeal bath'. At first she had been disgusted by it when she found out what Penelope had signed them all up for, but it felt amazing.

She closed her eyes as she relaxed and sipped on her fifth mimosa.

"I can't believe we have to go back to work on Monday." Emily sighed.

"Monday doesn't exist." Penelope said, "At least until we leave on Sunday."

"Mmmm," JJ, Haley, and Jessa agreed.

They sat in complete silence as they soaked, and for the first time since the accident, the pain in Jessa's leg completely disappeared. She found herself walking back to her room with no aid from her cane, and only the slightest of limps. Here, at the spa, nothing existed but them and the resort. There was no other people, and no outside world.

"You're walking better." Haley commented as they walked toward the rooms, both women hanging back a little behind the others.

"There's no stress." Jessa smiled, "I don't think I've ever felt this at peace."

"Can we have a word, Jessa?" Haley stopped walking and grabbed Jessa's hand to stop her too.

"What's up?" Jessa saw the concern in the other woman's eyes and was instantly worried. "Is everything okay?"

"No." Her eyes filled with tears. "Listen, out of all the people Aaron works with, I consider you a friend."

Jessa gulped, "Of course."

"I think he's seeing someone." Haley finally blurted out, a single tear spilling down her cheek. "I mean, we've been growing apart for a while now and I'm just scared he's found someone else."

"Haley, Hotch is a great guy and he loves you. He wouldn't do something like that." Even as she spoke, Jessa could feel the guilt at her dishonesty. Hotch had kissed her—just after John died—and here she was assuring his _wife_ that he wouldn't ever do that. "But right now, you're having a Jack-free weekend and you're going to enjoy it. The outside world doesn't exist here, remember?"

Haley wiped a tear away and smiled slightly. "You're right. But I should call home and check on Jack."

Jessa chuckled and put a reassuring hand on the other woman's arm, before continuing up the hall to their rooms.

Haley entered a few minutes later, and Jessa's guilt deepened.

"I'll be right back." She told the group.

"Wait, where are you going? It's after hours." Penelope asked.

"Just into the hall. I promised Dean that I'd call him."

Once in the hall, Jessa kept walking and it wasn't long until she came to a fire door leading into the back parking lot. She slipped through and into the darkness of the night. She took a few deep breaths of the crisp air before pulling out her smokes. It hadn't been difficult to swipe the pack back from Garcia through the day, but when she put one between her lips she was overcome by the guilt of lying to them. She had promised her friends that she would quit this weekend. With a heavy sigh she slipped the cigarette back into the pack and pulled out her phone instead.

"Harvelle's Roadhouse." Ellen answered.

"Hey, Ellen, is Jo there? I really need to speak to her."

"Sure, honey, I'll grab her."

Jessa heard the sound of the phone being handed over before Jo's too happy voice came down the line, "Jessa, what's up?"

"You were right." She ran a hand over her face, "I can't believe it, but you were actually right."

"Jeez, don't sound so surprised." Jo laughed, "But right about what?"

"The whole Hotch thing. You were right, I'm in love with him." She hadn't even admitted it to herself when she told her sister. She sighed, "What the hell do I do, Jo?"

"I don't think there's a whole lot you can do. I mean, if you love him. Those feelings don't just go away in a hurry."

"Ask me where I am." Jessa was getting increasingly irritated about it.

"What? Where are you?"

"I'm at a spa resort in Pennsylvania… WITH HIS WIFE!" She yelled the last part.

"Gee, Jessa. Calm down. You need a drink, or a smoke or something."

"I quit."

"Again?"

"For good."

"Again?" Jo repeated. Jessa had quit 'for good' quite a few times in the past.

" _For good_ for good, Jo. I'm done."

"Good for you." Jessa could hear her grin, "Listen, I have to go, Mom is giving me the stink eye. Call me whenever you need, okay?"

"Will do, thanks."

She hung up.

Walking back to the room, Jessa knew exactly what she needed—to hit something.

When she pushed the door open to the room, she was greeted by three very mad looking faces.

"Where have you been?" Penelope demanded.

"Here." Jessa tossed her the smokes. "Relax, I didn't have one. I mean, it was my intention, but I didn't."

She grabbed her duffel and walked into the bathroom, quickly changing into her yoga pants and a tank before walking out.

"Where are you going?" JJ asked.

"I need to clear my head." She took the bottle of whiskey as she left.

Jessa walked for close to an hour through the deserted corridors of the resort, until she came across a gym. The lights were all off, but the door was unlocked so she let herself in.

Spying a punching bag, she made her way to it and set the almost-half-empty bottle of whiskey at her feet before she began pounding her bare fists against the bag in an even rhythm.

When her knuckles turned red, she stopped for a drink before resuming her work out. When the skin was peeling away, she stopped for a drink, but she didn't stop for good until she was leaving smears of blood on the grey punching bag.

"I don't think you're supposed to be here." A male voice sounded behind her.

She spun around, ready to defend herself, but she backed off when she saw him relaxed against the doorframe. He wasn't a threat. "I needed to hit something." She swiped her hand across her sweaty forehead, unknowingly spreading blood. "I'll go."

"Don't bother." He smiled, stepping fully into the room, the light giving the illusion that his blond hair was shining. "I was just coming for a work out before I headed home."

"You work here?"

"Sometimes." He told her as he opened a cupboard and tossed her a towel. "You got a bit of…" he gestured to his forehead.

"Thanks." She wiped the blood away.

"So what brings you here to hit something this late at night…?" He trailed off.

"Jessa." She supplied.

"Noah." He smiled, "So?"

"Just working through some stuff."

"Anything I can help you with?" He was closer to her now, and up close Jessa could see that his eyes were a pale blue.

"A complete stranger?"

Noah shrugged, "Sometimes a stranger is easier to talk to."

Jessa laughed. "I'm just here with someone I'd rather not be here with."

Noah was close enough to touch her, and he reached out to grab her hand. Surprisingly, Jessa didn't flinch away and Noah slipped a boxing glove over her battered hand. "You don't like her?"

"It's not that." Jessa turned back to the bag and punched it while Noah held it in place. "Haley's great, it's just her husband I have a problem with."

"Ah." He smiled, "In love with another woman's man. I've seen that before. It never ends well."

"Hence why I'm here."

"With a bottle of whiskey."

"With a bottle of whiskey." She confirmed. "What about you? Did you always want to sometimes work at a spa resort?" She teased at his earlier vague comment.

"Ha! No. I'm a Marine. My sister works here, so I help out with the training when I've got leave. You've got good form." He commented offhandedly.

"Marines, huh?"

"Yep. Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Harper."

"Impressive."

"Speaking of, where did you learn to punch like that?"

"Quantico." The comment was driven home by one last solid punch against the canvas.

"FBI?"

"Uh-huh."

Jessa took a large sip of whiskey and sat herself on the floor, feeling the effects of the alcohol. She offered the bottle to Noah but he declined.

"Where're you based?"

He smiled, "Same as you."

"Quantico?"

He nodded.

After a short silence, Jessa held out her hands for him to help her to her feet. "I should get back to my room."

He smiled at her, the kind of lopsided smile that made his eyes crinkle at the sides. "I'll see you around, Jessa."

* * *

The next couple of days were the best of Jessa's life. The issues of her heart were the furthest thing from her mind as she was pampered to a near coma.

Sunday came too quick, and the five women grudgingly made their way to the check-out desk.

"Back to reality, my sweets." Garcia said when she returned their room keys.

"Can we never leave?" JJ asked, staring longingly down the hall.

"I don't know, I'm kind of glad to be going home." Haley said. "Don't get me wrong, I had the time of my life, but I've never been away from Jack this long. I miss him."

"Leaving so soon, Jessa?" Jessa turned to see Noah emerge from the hall.

"A vacation can't last forever." She smiled.

"If only." He returned her smile, and was about to say something when someone called his name. "I'll see you." He smiled, looking annoyed to be called away, and disappeared back down the hall.

"Who was that?" JJ quizzed as they walked back towards the truck. "And how did you meet him?"

"He was totally cute." Penelope added.

"Not to mention into you." Haley chimed.

Jessa rolled her eyes, "His name is Noah, he works here sometimes. I met him Thursday night when I went for a walk." She reached her truck and she unlocked it and climbed in, "Plus, he's not into me."

"He so is, it's obvious." Emily laughed.

"Obvious? You guys witnessed a ten-second interaction which he was called away from."

"Aw, sweetie," Penelope cooed, "It's so cute how blind you are when it comes to men. He wasn't smiling until he saw you, plus, did you see him curse when he got called away? He wanted to stay and talk with you."

JJ, who was sitting in the front, turned to Penelope with a look of shock that perfectly matched Emily and Haley's. "How are _you_ not a profiler?"

Garcia smiled and waved her off, blushing at the compliment.

"Let's not talk about my non-existent love life, okay?"

They agreed, and lapsed into a comfortable silence, the only sound was Bon Jovi singing _Always_ from the radio.

 _Back to reality,_ Jessa thought, glancing at Haley in the rearview.


	34. Chapter 33

**Man, I suck. But yesterday I decided when i woke up that I would finish this and post it... So i wrote all day then noticed that i was incredibly tired and it was five am... so turns out i wrote all night as well. So i thought i had to get some sleep before posting, and good thing too because some of it made absolutely zero sense. Anyway, so I slept (sorta) and proofed (I hope) and here it is... More to come.**

 **Xoxo**

* * *

Jessa noticed the figure standing on her doorstep as her truck rumbled up the road. She pulled it to a stop in her driveway and climbed out, wincing as she landed heavily on her leg.

"Can I help you?" The person—a woman—was facing away from her and turned when Jessa spoke.

"Jessamine, dear." She greeted, a wide grin spreading across her face, "Missouri Mosley." She answered the question Jessa didn't ask. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Uh, yeah, of course." She stammered, stepping around the virtual stranger to unlock her front door.

Upon entering the house, Jessa opened her mouth to speak but Missouri got in first. "Black, two sugars. Thank you, dear."

Jessa nodded and led her to the kitchen where she switched the coffee maker on.

"So, um, don't take this the wrong way, but—"

"Why am I here?" Missouri finished the question, and Jessa nodded. "Your daddy has a lot of people looking out for you kids. Even now."

This made Jessa smile. There was no doubt in her mind that Missouri was one of the few legit psychics in the world and to have her keeping an eye on her was a comfort.

"Now, why don't you pour us some coffee and tell me what's going on."

Jessa obliged and they sat at the table with coffee's in hand to talk.

She sighed and stared into her mug as she recounted the tale.

* * *

 _Jessa already hated this place and they had only been here for a month. At thirteen, Jessa already knew this drill too well. John would check them all in to a motel, enrol them in a local school, then carry on with numerous nearby hunts. Thankfully the motel wasn't far from the school because right now John was 'too busy' to take them to and from school so they had to walk. Every morning Dean would pack their lunches from the meagre supplies John had left them, and Jessa was in charge of breakfast. Then, they would walk Sam to the elementary school before continuing the extra mile or so to the middle school. This one particular day, however, they were running slightly late due to Jessa's unwillingness to bother._

" _J, come on, it's bad enough that you're making Sam late, but we're going to miss like all of first period."_

 _Dean wasn't the academic type, so Jessa assumed this was to do with the brunette that was seated in front of him for first period._

" _Whatever. It's not like we're going to be here long enough for them to punish me." She retorted, kicking a stone with the toe of her boot._

" _I like it here." Sam, who had been silent until that point, piped up from between his older siblings. "I want to stay."_

" _We don't have a choice, Sammy. We go where Dad can get work." Dean told his little brother, laying a hand on his shoulder when his face fell._

 _They walked in silence for a few minutes until Sam's school came in to view and they heard the bell. He looked up at Dean for permission, and when he nodded, Sam took off running for his classroom._

 _Neither Jessa nor Dean spoke for a while, until Dean noticed his twin no longer walking beside him._

" _What are you doing?" He asked when he spotted her a few feet behind him, staring at a spot off the sidewalk._

" _There's something there." She pointed to a lump of something in the long grass of the vacant lot. Jessa took a few steps toward it but Dean grabbed her arm._

" _We're already late. We don't have time for this."_

 _Jessa just shook herself free of his grip and continued toward the lump._

" _What is it?" Dean asked from a few steps behind her._

 _Jessa leaned over it and picked it up. "A backpack." She opened the flap and found a name. "Christina Short."_

" _Isn't that the high school chick that went missing a couple of days ago?" Dean asked. "I saw posters up at school."_

 _Jessa glanced around them and noticed a second clump of colour not far away—only this one was significantly larger. She took a tentative step toward it before she saw the dirty fan of blonde hair decorating the grass. "Dean."_

 _Dean followed her gaze and he too recognised what they were staring at: the lifeless body of a stranger._

 _Dean's hand grabbed his twin's and he gently tugged on it. "We have to call the cops."_

" _I saw a pay phone back there." Neither sibling looked away from the body, they just slowly backed away. When Jessa felt the sidewalk under her feet she took off at a run to the pay phone._

* * *

 _When Jessa and Dean arrived at school—dropped off by the cops— over two hours late, neither spoke when asked about it. The day passed in a blur, and Sam frowned when neither of them joined in his enthusiasm as he recounted his day on the walk home._

 _John was at the motel when they got back, furious saying the cops had called him and he asked them what they did this time. Neither of them told him, but when John entered their room a few hours later he was considerably less mad as he explained that he spoke with a detective Parish again and he explained what happened._

" _I don't want to talk about it, Dad." Jessa snapped at him, getting up and locking herself in the bathroom._

 _Laying in her bed that night she was unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the glazed, unseeing eyes of Christina Short._

" _J?" Dean whispered into the darkness. "Are you awake?"_

 _Jessa didn't answer right away, and Dean assumed she must have been asleep, but after a few more moments he heard her whisper, "She wasn't much older than us."_

" _I know."_

" _What do you think happened?" Jessa rolled on to her side so she was facing her brother's bed. "The cops wouldn't tell me."_

" _I overheard the ME. He thinks she was sexually assaulted before she was stabbed. He said she was there a couple of days before we found her."_

 _Jessa didn't speak. She went over and over it in her mind. Where her last moments full of fear? Did she know death was coming? Did she die with the hope that she could get away?_

" _We've both killed before." Dean finally said. Jessa heard him roll on to his back. "But…"_

 _He trailed off, so Jessa finished, "This is different. She was innocent._ Human."

" _Yeah."_

 _Neither of them spoke again, but neither managed to drift off to sleep. Eventually the sun came up and both siblings got up to go about their usual routine._

* * *

"Go on." Missouri prompted her when she stopped the story.

"You know what happened next." Jessa said quietly, not looking at her.

"Do I?"

"I do, so you do too."

"Go on."

* * *

" _Look after your brother." John told the twins as he packed spare ammo into his bag. "Don't leave the room after dark, keep the shotgun by the door, and don't open it unless it's me. I should be home tomorrow and there's enough food for tonight, but just in case I left you twenty."_

" _We know the drill, Dad." Jessa said with a roll of her eyes. She instantly knew it was a mistake by the glare he sent her._

" _We got itl, Sir." Dean answered, giving his twin a pointed look._

 _John patted Dean on his shoulder then surprised everyone by pressing a kiss to Jessa's forehead, "Stay safe, Jemmy." He waved goodbye to Sam and with one last 'Lock the door behind me' he was gone._

" _Who's Jemmy?" Sam asked from where he lay sick in bed._

" _Jessa." Dean answered because Jessa was too dumbstruck to form a proper sentence._

" _He hasn't called me that since Mom." She finally managed._

" _He's scared." Dean whispered, careful to keep his voice low enough so Sam couldn't hear. To the nine-year-old, his dad was still Superman._

"That _is scary."_

 _Dean hummed his agreement but the pair were interrupted by the sounds of Sam hurling._

" _I got it last time." Dean was quick to say._

" _At least—" Jessa started but stopped when she turned around and realised that Sam had not thrown up in the bucket they put there, but all over himself, the bed, and the floor._

" _I'm sorry." He started to sob as he vomited again._

" _Don't worry, Sammy." Jessa sighed. "Go hop in the shower and put your pyjamas in the basin."_

 _Sam just nodded and did as he was told. A few moments later she heard the sounds of him retching through the locked door and she prayed it was in the drain this time._

 _Jessa dutifully took the soiled sheets from the bed and dumped them into a bucket before running water in them from the sink. She then enlisted Dean's held to get the mattress outside before she grabbed towels and mopped up the mess on the floor._

 _By the time the shower was finished she had the mess all but cleaned._

" _Where am I going to sleep?" Sam asked, stepping out of the bathroom in clean pyjamas._

" _You can sleep in my bed." Jessa offered, tossing the puke-towels in the bucket with the sheets. "Just promise to puke in the bucket next time, buddy, okay?"_

 _Sam nodded his head._

" _Dean, run these to the laundromat across the street." She ordered, handing her brother the fowl smelling bucket._

" _Gross, why don't you?"_

" _Because whoever doesn't do it, has to scrub the mattress."_

 _Dean considered his options before grabbing the bucket and the money John left them._

 _Jessa led Sam into the adjoining room and tucked him in to her bed, placing his glass of water on the nightstand. "Remember, only small sips if you get thirsty." She told him._

 _Sam just nodded and closed his eyes._

 _It didn't take long before the sun had set and Jessa had the mattress clean. Dean was sitting on his bed sharpening his knife when Jessa locked them into the room._

" _How's Sam?" She asked._

" _Sleeping." Dean didn't even look up from his blade._

" _Good." Jessa sat cross legged on the end of Dean's bed, facing him. "What's Dad hunting?"_

 _Dean cast a quick look to Sam to ensure he was still sleeping before answering, "Ghouls in the next town over."_

 _They remained silent for a long while before Jessa spoke again, this time quieter than before. "Why is he scared?"_

 _This made Dean stop his calculated movements on the blade. "Christina."_

" _What?"_

" _J, she was blonde, green-eyed, and young. She was murdered right here in town— he's scared for you."_

" _He shouldn't be." She said, taking the knife from him and continuing to sharpen it._

" _He's our Dad."_

" _He's subjected us to things way more scary than some guy that gets off hurting girls."_

 _Dean opened his mouth to explain that it was probably more of the fact that John had realised how easily it could have been his own daughter killed, rather than the knowledge that it happens, but he opted against it._

" _Here." Jessa finished and passed her brother back his knife._

" _Thanks." He mumbled, stowing it in the nightstand._

 _They sat in complete silence for a while before Dean got up to fix them some cereal for dinner. It was then that Jessa checked on Sam and noticed his fever spike._

" _Dean, Sam's really hot."_

" _What?" He looked up from what he was doing, spilling milk over the counter in the process._

" _He's burning up."_

" _Go get a towel or something."_

 _Jessa rushed into the small bathroom and got one of the off-white face cloths from the basin and rinsed it with cold water. When she returned to the room, Sam was wide awake with the blanket pulled to his chin, shivering._

" _Jessie, I don't feel well." He muttered._

" _I know." She sat down next to him and put the towel against his head. "Does that feel better?"_

 _Sam nodded weakly._

 _Hours passed the same way—Jessa and Dean both attempting to cool down their sick brother with nothing working._

" _I'm going to go get something." Jessa finally insisted._

 _Dean was freaking out, pacing around the room, but he shot Jessa a 'no way' kind of look._

" _Relax." Jessa told him, "There was an all-night drug store a couple of blocks up the road. I'll go get something for him."_

 _"Dad told us not to leave the room." Dean objected._

 _"Dad also said to take care of Sam."_

 _Dean watched as his sister grabbed the last of the money and left the room. He quickly locked the door behind her and grabbed the shotgun that John insisted they keep. He felt better with the weapon in his hands._

" _Jessa will be back soon, Sammy." Dean's words reassured himself as well as his little brother._

 _Dean was freaking out—more than before. It had been too long! The drug store wasn't far, and Jessa knew that he would be worried. She wouldn't take this long unless something was wrong._

" _Stay in bed, Sammy." Dean grabbed the room key and his newly sharpened hunting knife. "I'm going to find J, okay?" When he didn't receive a reply, Dean looked over to see the small boy sleeping. He was still sweating profusely but Dean counted his sleeping as a small victory. He was just about to pull the door open when fists pounded on it. Dean peeked through the window to see Jessa standing nervously on the other side. He quickly reefed it open. "What the hell took you so long?" He demanded, sliding the deadbolt back into place._

" _It was busy."_

" _Busy? J, it's one am!"_

" _Night shift workers, I don't know."_

 _Dean could sense her withholding something, but he also sensed he shouldn't push it so he backed off and watched as she gently woke Sam to give him the medicine._

* * *

"Dad got back a few hours later and we skipped town." She finished while staring into her now-empty coffee mug.

"You never told anyone what happened?"

"Not for years."

"What happened after?" Missouri pressed.

"After?"

"Something is bothering you, young Winchester, why do you think I came?"

"Fine."

* * *

 _Jessa sat at her desk in the BAU going over the stack of files she was asked to consult on._

" _Ugh!" She let her head fall on to the wooden desk, the resulting thump causing Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid to look up from their own work._

" _Woah, you right, Winchester?" Prentiss asked with a small smirk._

" _There's too much. I quit." She was already exhausted from the last months' worth of paperwork, this just pushed her over the edge._

" _Just think, Bright Eyes, next week you'll be back to playing in the big leagues." Morgan teased._

" _Yeah." Jessa lifted her head off the desk and peeled off the sheet of paper that had stuck to her._

 _The others must have noticed her change in demeanour, because the jokes stopped._

" _Everything alright?" Prentiss pressed._

" _Just this case." Jessa grabbed the rest of the file and flicked through. "Fifteen-year-old murders have started up again."_

" _That's a long dormancy period." Morgan commented._

" _Generally when an Unsub stops killing for a long period of time it's forced. Maybe he was locked up?" Reid supplied._

" _Or he could have moved to a different town." Prentiss threw out._

" _No." Jessa answered after a quick database search. "No killings like this nationwide since the '92 murders in Leesburg, Virginia."_

" _He popped up in the same place?"_

" _Yeah. That must be home. Here." She tossed the file to Morgan's desk—it being the closest to hers._

" _What am I looking at?" He asked her._

" _He's preferential. Victim one."_

 _Morgan flipped through and pulled out the school picture of Christina Short. "Pretty." He commented before reading through. "Cheerleader, volleyball player, active community volunteer… Killing someone like that creates attention."_

" _She was raped and murdered. It was two days before anyone found her body."_

 _He noticed something in her tone and then flipped to the police report from then. "Says here the body was found by two middle schoolers…"_

" _God, could you imagine seeing something like that at that age?" Prentiss asked rhetorically._

" _Yeah." Jessa mused, but Morgan caught on to what she was saying._

" _Jessa?"_

 _She just nodded, understanding the silent question._ Yes, Derek, it was almost me.

" _Who are the latest victims?" He asked._

 _Jessa brought up their images on her screen and rotated it so he could see. Three young girls, aged fourteen to seventeen, all blonde, all attending the same school, all found within a three block radius of the other._

 _Jessa grabbed the file off Morgan's desk and ran up the stairs to their boss's office. She knocked twice then let herself in._

" _Winchester." He didn't look up from his paperwork, "what can I do for you?"_

" _I want to take on a case." This caused him to look up._

" _Oh?"_

" _It's not far, Leesburg, but I think they can benefit from having me there."_

" _Have we been invited?"_

" _No, but I was asked to consult."_

" _Then write up a profile and send it back."_

" _Hotch—"_

" _My answer is no, agent Winchester."_

" _Yes, sir." She sighed and left._

* * *

" _Jessa?" Jessa was just about to hit send on her email when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Startled, she jumped into action and had the arm of her interrupter pinned behind him. When she realised who it was she released him instantly, taking a step backwards. "Shit, Hotch. I'm sorry."_

" _Don't worry about it." He rubbed his shoulder. "Are you okay? You're jumpy."_

" _Fine."_

 _He glanced at the computer behind her. "Is that the case you were consulting on?"_

" _Yeah, I was just sending the profile."_

" _And?"_

" _It's vague, but I think he just got out of prison, or some other institution, considering there was a fifteen-year dormancy period."_

 _He nodded, "Go home. It's getting late."_

 _For the first time Jessa noticed that they were the only people in the bullpen._

" _Maybe I should."_

" _I'll walk you out."_

* * *

"What are you going to do about it?" Missouri asked, knowing this was the end of the story.

"I don't know yet."

"Yes you do." The older woman stood up and placed her mug on the counter before heading toward the door.

"That's it?" Jessa called out after her, "You came all this way to hear me tell the story?"

"I came all this way to help you work through something." She smiled, "This is bothering you more than you would like to think."

Jessa thought for a moment and realised she was right. It had been almost two days since then and she hadn't stopped thinking about it.

Missouri opened the front door and stepped into the night.

"At least let me drive you somewhere." Jessa offered, following her out.

"I called a cab. Besides, you have a visitor."

Jessa had no idea who could be visiting at almost nine pm, but she watched Missouri climb into a cab. By the time the taillights disappeared around the corner, a set of headlights approached from the other direction. She watched as her boss stepped out of the vehicle.

"Expecting someone?" He asked as she stood at the door.

"Sort of." Jessa smiled. "To what do I owe this late visit."

Hotch smiled sheepishly and ran a hand over the back of his neck, "Sorry, it's just… I couldn't stop thinking about that case you brought in a couple days ago."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

Jessa took a step backwards and left the door open. "Come in."

* * *

 **Okay, so i got really wrapped up in the flashbacks, but its so fun doing young Jessa.**

 **Anyways, until next time.**


	35. Chapter 34

**A/N: Wow, I suck.**

* * *

Jessa told Hotch the story about finding Christina's body. She told him how three more girls were killed after she left town, but omitted the part about her own close call. That was a part of the tale that she wasn't ready to share. After explaining everything, Hotch agreed to allow her to travel to Leesburg in the morning to assist the locals—under his supervision.

"I don't need a babysitter, Hotch." She told him, not unkindly.

"I know. You're a good agent, but you're also really close to this case. I'm coming with you."

With a light-hearted roll of her eyes she conceded, and first thing in the morning the two of them were travelling the hour-and-a-bit drive to Leesburg.

Jessa had phoned her contact—the lead detective on the case, Detective Allie—and informed her that she and a colleague were heading to town to help out. Allie thanked her, and Jessa could really hear the relief in her voice. Cases like this one always had everyone on edge.

It was only a little after ten am when they pulled up at the police station. They were greeted by a detective Marx, who led them to the conference room where they were set up.

"Agents." A woman breezed in, her straight brown hair flowing behind her like a train. She extended a perfectly manicured hand, "Carolina Allie, I'm lead on this case."

Jessa and Hotch each shook her hand. "I'm Jessa Winchester, we spoke yesterday, and that's SSA Hotchner." She introduced them, "thank you for allowing us to assist."

"Please," Allie grinned through red lips, "I appreciate the help. This has us all stumped."

"Did you talk to the detective that worked the murders fifteen years ago?" Hotch asked.

"Afraid not. He passed away last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Jessa said, detecting the note of sadness in her voice.

"We do have his notes and everything he had on the '92 murders." She gestured to where Marx was sitting and he handed over an A5 notebook.

Jessa flicked through it, careful as to not damage the already damaged pages. "These are thorough." She commented.

"Dad was never a man to do things halfway." Allie smiled.

"Detective Parish was your father?" Jessa's head snapped up.

"Yeah, he was. How…?"

"I knew him. Briefly," Jessa cast her eyes downward, "He was kind to my brother and me after we found the first body."

"Oh my god, that was you?" Allie's eyes widened.

Jessa nodded.

"I went to school with Chrissy's big sister. We were friends. I always wondered who found Chrissy, but Dad didn't like me knowing about his cases."

"What do we know about the other victims?" Hotch asked.

Allie gestured for them to sit down. "Angelique Martin, sixteen, Abby Stevens, also sixteen, and Chloe Bell, fifteen, were all killed over the span of a month in '92. Ashley Zimmerman, fourteen, Haley Smart, fourteen, and Brielle Marsh, sixteen, all found the same way as the '92 victims, but in the last three weeks."

"Did your father ever have any suspects?" Hotch asked her.

"A few, but his number one suspect was always Donnie Walker, he went to school with the first three victims. Dated two of them. He always had a bit of a temper, and Dad liked him for it, but there was never enough evidence."

"Is he still around?"

"He skipped town not long after, he's been in and out of prison's around the country, he was released from San Quentin a couple of months ago."

"He came straight back to town after he was released. Moved in with his Mom, it was a condition of his parole." A man appeared in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame as he chewed on a muffin.

"Clancy, these are agents Winchester and Hotchner. They're here to help. Agents, this is my little brother Detective Parish."

Parish smiled at them, a grin that lit up his blue eyes. "Anyway," he pushed his dark brown hair—the same shade as his sisters—out of his eyes, "We spoke to Donnie, I don't reckon he did this."

"How do you know?" Jessa found herself asking.

"I went to school with him. Donnie may be a rotten crook, but he's not a murderer."

"Why was he in prison?"

"Possession of illicit substances, possession of an unregistered firearm, driving under the influence, fleeing the scene of an accident, and negligent driving resulting in death." Marx deadpanned, not looking up from the files in front of him.

"I'm telling you, He's no murderer." Parish entered the room fully and set down the cardboard tray of coffee he was holding. "I didn't realise you would be here so soon, if you like I can run out for more." He said, gesturing to the three take away cups.

"It's fine, but thank you." Hotch said.

Parish just shrugged and took the seat opposite Jessa.

"Any witnesses?" Hotch asked the group.

"No one that's come forward, but we think there may have been a fifth victim from '92." Allie told them.

"What makes you think that?" Jessa asked her, trying to keep herself calm.

"A late night dog walker called 911 a few nights after Chrissy's body was found, he said he saw a man attacking a young girl, but both the man and the girl ran off before cops arrived." Allie handed Hotch the report.

"How do you know it's related?" Hotch asked, oblivious to how uncomfortable Jessa had become.

"Same MO." Marx finally looked up from his work, "Late at night, in a park, plus it was only a few blocks from the first crime scene."

"And the girl never came forward?"

Allie shook her head, "We tried. Dad had a reward for information for months after it happened, but nothing. We did the same thing last week, hoping that these new murders would encourage her to help out, but still nothing." She smiled sadly, "The witness couldn't even give us a description of her."

"What if she doesn't know anything?" Jessa said, "Maybe she didn't see his face." Hotch gave Jessa a sideways glance, but didn't say anything.

"But she's got to know something. Anything would be helpful at this point." Parish said quietly.

"Winchester, you should know better than anyone that victims know more than they think they do." Hotch told her, looking into her eyes asking the silent question: _What is going on with you?_

Jessa gave him a small shake of the head. _Nothing._ "What about my profile? Did it help you narrow down your suspect pool?"

"Not enough." Allie answered.

"I want to talk with this Donnie character again." Jessa declared.

"We've already interviewed him." Marx was on the defensive.

" _We_ haven't."

"Like it's going to make any difference!" He snapped.

"We're trained to pick up on things that usually go unnoticed." Hotch was quick to explain, "Please don't think we're trying to undermine you."

"What else are we supposed to think?"

"Lorcan." Allie scolded Marx before turning back to Hotch, "I'll have uniforms bring him in."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Parish was right about him." Jessa muttered when they stepped out of the interrogation room, "That Donnie guy's an ass."

Hotch smiled, "Pretty sure he used the term 'rotten crook'."

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Well?" Marx sat behind his desk with a smug smirk.

"He's slimy, and fairly unintelligent, but I don't think he killed anyone—on purpose." Jessa informed them.

"I'm also fairly sure Winchester broke his hand." Hotch added, trying not to sound as impressed as he truly was. Donnie was slimy, and the sight of him made his skin crawl. He tried not to admit that it was mostly because of the unrelenting and crass way he was hitting on Jessa.

"What?" Parish chuckled from his desk, unlike Hotch he was not even trying to mask his delight, "That's awesome."

"No it was not." Allie stormed toward them, "Agent Winchester, I really don't know how the Feds do things, but you will not assault a suspect in this precinct." She said, before adding with a smirk, "I don't care how much he deserved it."

"Lighten up, Lena." Parish grinned.

Allie rolled her eyes at her brother and walked off—Jessa followed.

"Hey, Allie." She got the detective's attention, and she continued when Allie turned around. "I want to thank you for having my back before, with the whole Walker thing."

The detective gave her a tight smile, "Listen, Agent Winchester, I appreciate your willingness to help, I really do, but don't put me in a position like that again. You made it abundantly clear when we spoke on the phone that this is still my case and I don't want you to undermine my authority again."

The outburst shocked Jessa a little, but she knew where it came from. "That wasn't my intention, Detective, I assure you it wasn't my intention. I'm sorry."

"Hm." She turned on her heel and stalked off.

"Don't mind her." A voice said in her ear, causing her to jump. "She's a little tightly wound."

"She has a point, Parish."

He shrugged, "Eh. Anyway, got any more hot ideas about the case?"

"No." She sighed, walking into the conference room. "What about you?"

"Nope." He flopped down into a seat and lifted his legs on to the table, "And I've been working it for weeks."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?" He swivelled the chair to face her completely.

"What's Marx's deal? I don't think he likes me very much."

"Marx doesn't like anyone very much right now. I guess divorce'll do that to someone."

"Ah."

"Yeah, he and Katie have been together forever." He reached out and picked up a sheet of paper from the mess on the table, "I guess shit like that happens, though."

Jessa hummed something that could have been agreement, but she didn't say anything. The only meaningful relationship she ever had was with Derek, and that was only because they were such good friends.

* * *

"Got something." Marx declared, breezing into the room first thing the next morning. None of them had gotten much sleep, but Marx looked as though he had fallen asleep at his desk—in some questionable take out. He sat at the end of the table and connected his laptop to the projector. "I spent all night going through all that footage we collected and they pulled this." He pressed play on the video.

It was grainy, but it was clearly a man stepping on to the street. He had a dark hoodie on, and he was walking quickly with one hand in his pocket, the other was clutching something that could have been a knife.

"It's poor quality, I know," Marx went on, "But it was taken from the security camera out the front of the convenience store down the street from the vacant lot where vic two was killed, and he's clearly holding a knife."

"I'll call Garcia," Hotch started, "Can you have that footage sent to our analyst at Quantico? She should be able to clear it up a little." He pulled out his phone and Jessa wrote down the address Marx should email it to, and just over an hour later they had an image clear enough to make out details.

"Unfortunately you don't get a clear shot of his face," Garcia told them all from the big screen, "But I think that's a tattoo." She blew up a section of the man's arm. "Also unfortunate because even I can't work enough magic to make that decipherable."

"Thanks, Pen." Jessa smiled. "You are wonderful."

"Don't I know it, sweet pea." She shot her a wink.

"We'll let you know if we know anything else."

"I'll be waiting… Or rather, working. I have a tonne of other things to do." She smiled and said, "Hit me back." Before her image vanished.

"That's a snake." Parish declared, squinting at the blurry tattoo.

"Clance, that's clearly script." Allie told him.

"I don't know about that," Marx said, "It looks tribal."

"It's nothing, it literally looks like nothing." Jessa settled, "All we know is that it's something, so now we can rule out anyone without a tattoo on his arm."

"You're no fun, FBI." Parish pouted.

"What time was this?" Hotch asked, pointing to the still image.

"Time stamp says half one." Marx answered, "I went back further and found this." He played it. "That's Haley Smart," He pointed to the blonde girl walking casually down the street.

"She's not being followed." Allie whispered.

"And she doesn't look nervous." Hotch added.

"Wait, pause it." Jessa ordered. "She's checking her phone."

"Her parents said she didn't have one." Allie said, rifling through the papers in front of her.

"Was there one found on the body?" Hotch asked with a frown.

"No." Parish answered.

"So do we assume the unsub has it?" Jessa mused aloud, "Or did she dump it?"

"Uniforms combed the scene when the body was discovered, but no phone was recovered." Allie read off the crime scene report.

"It's been, what, a week since Haley's murder?" Jessa asked them.

"Nine days." Marx corrected.

"Nine days, what are the chances that it's still around?"

"Worth a shot." Allie grinned.

"We'll have to coordinate a bigger search for it. The lot, the streets, everywhere." Jessa said, "If she was loured to that lot—to her death—she may have been in contact with the unsub." She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. This was a lead. A real, solid lead.

* * *

Jessa sat on the hood of the squad car while a squadron of uniforms combed the streets looking for the missing cell phone. She had Morgan's sunglasses on—she swiped them from him a few weeks ago and refused to give them back—and she sipped on the coffee Parish bought her on their way to the scene.

"You look bored." Parish approached her and jumped up next to her.

"Quite the opposite." She said, "I'm just thinking that I could get used to this." She gestured in front of her, "Watching all these people working for me."

"Ha!" Parish laughed, "Why do I feel like that's not true? You love working."

"Perceptive, Detective Parish."

"Well, it does help me with my job." He joked.

"Ah." Jessa joined in on the joke with a smile. They were interrupted by the ringing of Jessa's phone. She adjusted her position so she could get it from her pocket, "Winchester." She answered.

"I ran a trace on that phone, my love," Garcia said, "Obviously it's dead now, but I managed to get the last location. I triangulated it based on what cell towers it pinged off, and I've got a two block radius."

"We're searching the lot where she was killed now."

"Uh-huh, and enjoy that waste of time because the last location was across town."

"Across town?"

"Uh-huh. I'll send it through to you."

"Thanks, Pen."

"Bad news?" Parish asked when she hung up.

"I don't know. Garcia got a last known on the cell, it was across town. Which means the killer took it with him."

"Ah."

"I'm going to call this off. It's a waste of time if we know the phone left with the killer." She slid down off the bonnet and walked toward a group of uniforms, only to stop short when she noticed a man standing inside the police tape. She sent a look to Parish, but he was looking away. As she started toward the man, he caught sight of her and took off.

"Parish!" She shouted for backup as she began pursuit.

The trespasser had a head start, but Jessa made up the distance in no time. He was ahead of her as he ducked around a street corner, and Jessa was burning toward him as the dull ache in her leg began to return. She ignored it as she rounded the second corner, dodging the civilians far more gracefully than her suspect had.

"FBI, stop running!" She yelled in vain as she chased him down the street.

She was nipping at his heels by the time they rounded the third corner and for a moment she feared she lost him until a fist flew at her from the side. Reflexes kicked in and she fought back. The man had the upper hand with size and soon had her pinned against the wall. His face was mere centimetres from Jessa's and she froze in fear as she recognised his eyes. They were the same eyes that plagued her nightmares for years—nightmares that started when she was thirteen.

Jessa felt like she was thirteen again. She was frozen in place, not for long, but long enough for the unsub to land another blow. This spurred her into gear and she brought her leg around to connect with his abdomen, then sent a fist into the side of his head. He reacted with a well-placed gut punch, followed by an uppercut that sent her flying backward into the wall. The impact of the bricks against the back of her head caused stars to appear in her line of vision, and she stumbled as she attempted to give chase. Knowing she could never catch up in this state she gave up and pulled her phone from her pocket as it began ringing.

"Hotch?" She answered.

"Where are you? Parish said you took off." He paused, "Are you running?"

"No." She closed her eyes as she tried to clear the stars, "I'm um…"

"Where are you? I'm coming to you."

"Uh, Market Street… I think. Corner of Plaza Street." She told him, taking in her spinning surroundings.

"I'm a couple of minutes away."

She hung up the phone and sat on the sidewalk against the wall with her head resting on her knees until she felt a presence above her. She looked up to see Hotch climbing from the SUV.

"Jessa, are you okay?" He grabbed her hands and helped her to her feet, catching her when she swayed slightly.

"He got away again, Hotch." She told him, placing her hands on his forearms. "I froze and let him get away again."

"Who got away? The Unsub? And what do you mean by 'again'?"

She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to the back of her head, "Nothing. Let's just go."

Hotch nodded, and helped her into the car.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Parish asked when they returned to the station. "One moment you were there, then you just took off."

Jessa gave him an icy look, "Where were you?"

"Where was I?"

"I needed backup and you weren't there!" She stood toe to toe with him, and despite the fact that she was a head shorter than him he was intimidated.

"You didn't give me any warning that you were gonna take off!" Anger flared in Parish's crisp blue eyes.

"You were supposed to have my back!"

"Jessa." Hotch spoke her name softly and steered her into the empty conference room. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"I've let this go so far, but something is up and I need to know what it is." He lowered himself into the seat next to her and took both of her hands, "Let me help you."

"It was only a couple of days after we found Christina." She whispered. "Dad left us in town when he was on a hunt, and Sam got sick." She took a shaky breath and met his eyes, "He got really bad one night, so I went to the drug store to get something that would help. On my way home I cut through the park. I knew I shouldn't have—my gut was telling me not to—but Sammy needed me, so I did. And I was attacked."

"You were the fifth victim from '92?"

She nodded. "Luckily he was interrupted before he could hurt me, but… I've got to find him, Hotch."

"And we will. He was reckless when he went there today, and now because of that we have someone who can ID him." He smiled a little and used the phone in the centre of the table to call Garcia.

"Mhm?" She answered after a few rings. Jessa could hear the clicking of her keyboard in the background, so she assumed she was too flustered to come up with anything cheeky to say.

"Garcia, I need you to send through those prison records of everyone in the area that matches the height and weight of the unsub." Hotch told her.

"All of them, or just the ones that have property inside the radius that I sent through to Jessa?"

"Just those ones." Jessa told the analyst. She'd forgotten about it completely until that moment.

"Okay, give me two secs, it's just searching now." There was a short pause. "Okay, I have the names of twenty-six cons that either have property in that area, used to have property in that area, or have family with property in that area. Narrowing that, twelve of them are dead, or still in prison, which leaves us with fourteen names. Sending them through now. Wow, I even surprised myself a little with the speed of that."

"Thanks, Penelope."

"We got him." Jessa burst into the squad room to notify Allie, Marx, and Parish. She had gone through the mug shots of every one of the names Garcia had sent through until she recognised one Jasper Bingham. "We've got an address, let's move."

* * *

Jessa would never forget that moment. Not for as long as she lived. She wouldn't forget the feeling of justice, or the satisfaction at knowing every young girl was safe from this monster. She also wouldn't forget the sickening smirk that crossed his face when Jessa moved to handcuff him.

"You know," He said casually, "I didn't recognise you before, but I've placed you now. I've thought about you a lot over the years. The one that got away." At that moment she 'accidentally' slammed him into the door of the car. She handed him over to the detectives and started toward the SUV. The sooner she got out of this town the better.

"Agent Winchester." Allie caught up with her, "I just wanted to thank you for helping with the case. Despite our personal differences, I don't think we would have solved it without you."

Jessa nodded and politely shook her hand.

"Detective Allie?" Jessa called out when the detective turned away.

"Yes?"

"Why don't you like me? You made your judgments about me the moment we met. Why?" Jessa didn't care what other people thought, she really didn't, but she didn't like that Allie had made judgments first up.

"I worked hard for my job." She said simply, "And I work even harder every day to keep it. Unlike you, I didn't sleep my way into the position."

"Excuse me?" Jessa blinked. She hadn't expected that.

"Look, you may have my brother fooled, but I'm not as easily swayed by a pretty face—unlike your boss, I guess."

"I don't know what you think you know, detective," Jessa fought to keep the rage from her voice. How dare this woman—this stranger—make assumptions about her like that! "But I am damn good at my job. I worked harder than anyone through Quantico, and I earned my job at the BAU. Contrary to what you believe, I did not, nor have I ever, slept my way into a job. I have more self-respect than that."

Jessa turned on her heel and stalked away, her hands still vibrating with anger. She climbed behind the wheel of the government vehicle and waited for Hotch.

"I guess this is goodbye, huh?" Jessa looked up to see Parish leaning against the car to talk to her through the open window.

"I guess so." She smiled at him.

"Are you headed back to Quantico? I couldn't talk you into staying for a celebratory drink?" It wasn't a long drive back home, and the sun was only just setting, but Jessa really just wanted to get home.

"I can't. Plus, I've got a dog waiting for me at home."

He nodded his head, then pushed his hands further into his pockets. "I'd, uh, I'd like to see you again. If that's okay."

Jessa blushed slightly. She'd be lying if she said she didn't find him attractive. "I don't think that's a great idea."

"Is it because you're in love with your boss?" At her look he shrugged, "A fool could see it, Winchester."

"I'm not sleeping with him."

"I never said you were. Unlike my big sister, I don't make judgments. I don't know you… But I'd like to."

Jessa smiled, "You're sweet, Parish, but I can't do that to you."

"If you ever change your mind…" He handed her a card with his number on it before pressing a kiss to her cheek. Without another word he disappeared.

* * *

When Hotch dropped Jessa off at her place, there was a familiar form on her doorstep.

"Friend of yours?" He asked as he walked around to climb behind the wheel.

"You could say that." She smiled at him, "Thanks for the lift."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah." She slid out of the vehicle and sauntered toward her stoop. "Should I have left a key out?"

"Good God, girl, there's been a weight lifted off you." Missouri smiled, "It's good to see your aura clear again."

"Thanks for the push."

Missouri smiled, "I'm just here to say goodbye before I leave town."

Jessa nodded, "It was good seeing you, Miss Mosley."

"I don't know why you didn't take my advice." Missouri said as she walked toward the curb where a cab was just arriving.

"What advice?"

"To tell that man how you feel."

Jessa scoffed, "Derek and I had that discussion. We're long over."

"Who said that's who I was talking about?" She winked at Jessa then climbed in the car.

Jessa stared at the retreating taillights with a smirk. That woman.


	36. Chapter 35

**Ooh, look at this. I got my act into gear and am posting another chapter! Woo hoo!**

* * *

"Do you need to answer that, Winchester?" Hotch asked when Jessa's phone rang.

"No, sir." She rejected the call. Jessa felt a little bad about it, it was the fifth time Dean had called in the last thirty minutes, and he never called this many times—he knew Jessa would assume the worst.

Almost five minutes later when he called again.

"Answer it." Hotch ordered.

"It's only Dean." Instead, Jessa guiltily turned it off. She would call him back when she was less busy.

* * *

Jessa tossed her pizza crust into the empty box and leant back in her seat and flicked her phone on.

"Something more interesting than this case, Winchester?" Hotch glared at her.

Jessa glanced at her phone—she'd had it turned off for three days now, and there were several messages from Dean, Ellen, and even Bobby. Something was wrong.

"No, sir." She shut it off again.

* * *

It was another sleepless twenty-four hours before the case was done, and Jessa had felt uneasy the whole time. She shuffled toward her truck and hoisted herself in to the driver's seat. Exhausted, she laid her head against the wheel and closed her eyes.

A knock on the window startled her awake—after she had fallen asleep for god knows how long—and she looked up to see Morgan standing there with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"What do you want?" She asked, rolling down the window.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm exhausted, Derek." She told him, not bothering with pretenses, "I have been ignoring calls from my brothers for days, and I have no energy to call them back even though I know something is wrong, and I know that makes me an awful person but I can't bring myself to call them back—not until I get some sleep."

"Hey, hey." Morgan placed his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down, "You aren't an awful person, you just need to take care of yourself first. You need to go home and get some rest."

Jessa sighed and nodded, he was right.

"But you're in no shape to drive." He took the keys from her hand, "Scoot over."

Jessa was far too drained to argue, so she obliged, allowing Derek to drive the truck—something she didn't _ever_ do.

They drove in silence, and after about five minutes of static Derek twisted the dial on the radio until something decipherable played. Jessa laid her head against the window and let the music relax her.

"What is this?" She asked tiredly after a few minutes.

"I have no idea." Morgan laughed, "I don't like it."

"It's nice." Jessa told him, closing her eyes.

The music lulled her to sleep, and next thing she knew Derek was shaking her awake.

"There're people here to see you." He whispered.

Jessa looked out the window to see the Impala sitting on the curb. She was instantly overcome by guilt.

"You have to go in, Bright Eyes." He told her gently, reading her mind.

"I can't deal with this right now, Derek. I can't."

"You're going to have to." He climbed out and ran around to her side to open the passenger door, "I'll come with you."

When Jessa reached the front door she— unsurprisingly— found it open. She tossed her things on to the end table in the foyer and walked straight into the kitchen and grabbed herself a beer. Nicks ran eagerly up to her and she rubbed the dog's head. She ignored Dean and Sam, who were sitting at the table sharing a pizza, until she had the bottle open and had taken a long sip.

"Hey." Dean said when she finally looked at them, "Where were you?"

"Dean, I really don't have the energy for this." She sighed, pressing the palm of her hand against her forehead to try and fight off the oncoming headache.

"I called, J." He nearly yelled, "We needed you, and you weren't there."

"Dean—"

"No, Jessamine, listen to me." Dean stood now, "Do you know what we were doing without you? Do you know what happened to us while you were ignoring my calls? We killed the demon! Yeah, we ended this without you!"

"Dean!" Sam's voice cut through Dean's tirade. He gestured to the doorway where Derek stood with a look of confusion on his face.

"Shit." Dean cursed.

"Derek, can you give us a moment?" Jessa said to him.

"Did you say 'killed'?" He looked at Dean.

"Uh—" Dean fumbled for an explanation.

"You also said 'demon'." Morgan continued. "You said 'we killed the demon'."

"Derek, can you please just walk away!" Jessa yelled now, "Go home. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Fine." He held up his hands and backed away. It was a couple of moments before they heard the truck fire up.

"Jesus, Dean!"

"What's going on? Why is he here?" Dean demanded, "You guys back on now?" His tone was accusing, and his eyes shone with anger.

"Back on? No, Dean! He drove me home because I am exhausted!" She really enunciated the last three words. "I have barely slept in over three days and I have nothing left to argue with you so can we please sit down and talk about this?"

"Fine!" He threw his hands in the air and sat back down on his seat.

"You killed the demon?" She started, her voice at a reasonable level.

Dean nodded, but didn't say anything.

"What happened?"

Sam and Dean shared a look, then Sam looked at her, "Bobby tracked some omens to Wyoming. Serious omens, Jessa, something big was going down there. We went, and the demon was planning something. There was a fight, Dean managed to shoot the demon with the Colt."

"With help." Dean muttered.

"Help?"

"There was a Hellgate that got opened, an—"

"A HELLGATE?"

"Yeah, anyway, so the h—"

"Like an actual Hellgate? A door to Hell?"

"Yes, Jessa, an actual gate to Hell. Let me finish please?"

"Sorry, go on."

"Thank you. Anyway, so the Hellgate opened and Dad climbed out."

"Dad?"

"Yeah." There was a small smile on Dean's face when he said it.

"Dad climbed all the way out of Hell?" She sank down into a chair. "Well, I guess if anyone is stubborn enough to do it, it's Dad."

"That's what I said." Sam laughed.

"So he crawled out of Hell?"

"Yeah," Dean laughed and snatched the beer from her hands and took a sip, "I'd be dead without him."

Jessa felt her eyes fill with tears, and she thought about what Missouri said about John having people looking out for them. He may have been a sub-par father at times, but there was no denying the lengths he would go to for his kids.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there." She whispered, looking down at her hands.

"We wanted you to be there, Jessa." Sam said, reaching out and squeezing her hand, "We're sorry you weren't."

"No, that's on me." Jessa squeezed his hand back, "I'm glad you both ended it. Well, the three of you. Like a family—just how it should be."

"Without you." Dean whispered.

"Dean, we all know that I have been an absent member of this family since I was seventeen." She gave him a reassuring smile, "Now that it's over, what's the plan? Are you going back to school?"

Sam shook his head, "Jessa, a lot of bad shit got out of that Hellgate when it opened. That's on us, we've got to stop it."

"So, you're never planning on going back to school?"

"We caused this mess, we've got to clean it up."

"Sammy, you said you were going to find the thing that killed Mom—killed Jess—then you were going back. You were at Stanford! On a full ride, I might add. You were set."

"I can't do that anymore, Jessa." He defended his decision, "Saving people, hunting things, it's what we were meant to do."

Jessa sighed, "I'm glad you're both okay, I am, but I'm so tired. I need some sleep. I've got tomorrow off—we'll talk about it then." She stood up and walked to the stairs, her whole body aching with exhaustion. "Feed Nicks." She added before disappearing.

* * *

Jessa woke up when Nicks leapt up on to her, her paws digging into Jessa's side.

She peeked open an eye to look at the curious pup, and Nicks let out a whine and dropped her face to her paws.

Jessa groaned. She had the day off, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep in a little while but she had been so busy lately that her poor dog hadn't had the exercise she needed. Nicks had already taken that out on several pairs of Jessa's shoes, as well as a couch cushion.

"Yeah, alright." She moaned, rubbing Nicks behind the ears. "Just let me get dressed." Clearly not understanding, Nicks didn't move until Jessa rolled her off her stomach.

Once she was changed, the playful dog nipped at her heels as Jessa did her best to step over her and down the stairs to get the leash. When she got downstairs, she noticed a note on the counter from her brothers: _Caught a case, call you later._ It said in Sam's slanted handwriting.

It took longer than necessary for Jessa to clip the leash to the collar—as the dog was overexcited— but once she did Nicks all but pulled her put the front door.

As soon as they got through the front gate Jessa broke into a run, loving how, even after a few kilometres, there was no twinge in her leg. After all these months she was back to a hundred percent. She didn't stop running until they reached the park, where Jessa sat down on the lush grass and began tossing Nicks a tennis ball.

When she first got the pup, Nicks didn't understand the concept of 'fetch', but after a little training she got it, now it was one of her favourites. The German Shepherd's tail wagged from side as she brought the ball back to Jessa for what felt like the thousandth time and dropped it into Jessa's lap.

"Good girl." She cooed, patting her head before throwing the ball again.

After another thirty minutes of fetch, Nicks grew disinterested and ran off to play with another pup.

"Nicks!" Jessa whistled for her dog. Nicks ignored her and continued to play with the small terrier. Jessa jogged up to the young woman walking the dog and apologized profusely as she clipped the leash back onto Nicks' collar.

"Oh, don't worry about it." The woman gushed in a perfect southern drawl, "Chi-Chi loves other dogs."

Jessa stared down at the fluffy white thing, equipped with a bedazzled pink collar. The dog was certainly friendly enough, but its owner was far too chipper. "Sorry, again." Jessa said, tugging on Nicks leash. She tried not to judge the stranger, but she was making it hard. Her jogging clothes were all coordinated—black and pink from her shoes to her water bottle—and she wore the bubbly smile of someone who was never fazed by anything.

"I'm Sami, by the way." She extended her hand to Jessa, completely oblivious to the fact she was trying to get away.

"Funny, that's my brother's name." Jessa smiled politely, "Jessa."

"What's this one's name?" She asked in that fake voice everyone uses toward babies, as she leant down to pet Nicks. "She is just the sweetest."

"Uh, yeah," Jessa said awkwardly as Nicks began to growl at the woman, "This is Nicks."

"What a sweet name!"

"Uh, thanks."

Sami stood up straight and began addressing Jessa, "I'm new in town." She grinned, flashing perfect white teeth, "Fresh off the bus from Texas."

"Wow, how are you liking it?" Jessa really didn't know what she was supposed to be doing with the information.

"Oh, it's great." Sami answered, "I've been here for about a month now. I opened up a little boutique downtown, and finally moved out of the hotel. It's all been great."

"Uh, good to hear. I'd better run." Jessa tugged on Nicks' leash and began backing away, eager to get away from the over enthusiastic stranger.

"Oh, well it's lovely to meet you, Jessa. I hope to see you around!"

Jessa nodded and turned on her heel and began jogging back towards the road.

She slowed to a walk when she saw her truck parked in the drive, and took her time unclipping the leash from Nicks when she stepped through the gate so she didn't have to face Morgan.

"Hey." She finally said, unable to put it off any longer.

"Hey." Derek smiled, "I just brought your truck back."

"I noticed. Thanks."

"Anyway, I've got a cab on its way."

"Don't do that! I'll drive you."

"Don't worry about it, Jessa."

She sighed, "Listen, I'm sorry about snapping at you last night. I was a little out of it."

"It's forgotten." He stood up from the porch step as a cab pulled up at the curb. "I'll see you tomorrow." He gave her a kiss on the forehead and left.


End file.
